The Dead Chronicles, Part Eight: No Quarter
by TerminalMadness83
Summary: The last shreds of the living fight to maintain humanity… and she’s catching it on her camera.
1. No Quarter Chapter One

_I used to hear from people that in the end of the world, doomsday, there'd be plenty to fear. In the end of the world, there'd be a grand war between man that would shake the earth to its core, in the end of the world, there'd be an onslaught of nuclear explosions that would bring upon a nuclear holocaust, in the end of the world there'd nuclear winter and plagues, in the end of the world humanity would no longer exist._

_They were wrong, there was no war, there was no nuclear winter, but there was a plague, and it snuck in under the radar like the hush of summer. Before the military could respond, before the big man could turn the keys and press the button, the world was over with the quiet hush of death. Not an army in the world could save us. People, human beings were dead, and just like that… they were alive and became flesh eating monsters, those that were lucky enough, died, those unlucky enough survived, those cursed were eaten and turned into one of those things walking outside, but then again… maybe they were right after all, when doomsday came there was plenty to fear, and it was __**them…**_

**THE DEAD CHRONICLES, PART EIGHT: NO QUARTER**

"Hey, Knock Knock…" there was a light tapping at the chair, "Hey, Knock Knock…" He turned flipping her the bird, and the camera lowered, "Dude, that's not gonna look good to the audience."

"Patch, will you fuck off?"

"No."

"Is she still carrying around that thing?" asked a woman , "Can someone take it away from Pollyanna here?"

"Taking it away is like taking my arm away," she declared.

"Do you want to see what taking your arm away would feel like?" he asked.

She turned the camera to him. There was a silence.

"If you did, would it come alive and attack you? Or maybe me?" He grumbled sitting up and she turned to run off. Commotion could be heard behind the camera as she ran giggling and the large man could be heard running after her in the distance.

The camera turned back on an hour later, and a little girl no older than fourteen jumped in front of it and knelt down along the floor. She flashed a smile and waved and looked back at the shadows moving in the distance. She brushed her shoulder length ratty blonde hair behind her ear and wiped her face impulsively. "Hey loyal viewers, Patch here. So, it's day seventy nine, well they say over two months, but I count the days more. Anyway, it's been seventy nine days in this hell, and as you saw, the shit is hitting the fan more every single day, and today I heard from one of the guys that they were blowing Jersey into to smithereens. I'm still not sure why they're doing it, but supposebly--"

"—Supposedly," a voice behind from behind the camera muttered. She looked up behind the frame and rolled her eyes.

"Don't interrupt me, please!"

"It's supposedly, you half wit."

She grunted and ran over to the door slamming it shut. There was a low thumping and she jumped down in front of the camera shaking it. "Okay, supposedly it's because there were these condominiums that were just infested with the monsters, and now they're starting to lose more soldiers and make more of those things every minute. I think that's what happened, but the news doesn't come on anymore. Everybody's pretending like we're winning, but…" she shrugged, "Last month half of the group either deserted, or died, and there's more of them everyday…" She sat Indian style and crossed her hands together, "And more just seem to be rising every day. There's five billion people in the world, and about four billion woke up one morning as them and just turned on each other. We're still trying to find out how it happened and why, but no one has the answers yet. I heard all the government is trying to do is snuff them out. No one cares how it happened."

"Last week there was a nine year old black girl who was crying a lot, so the team asked me to talk to her or keep her company…," she furrowed her brows, "I forgot, really. Anyway, she just would not stop crying, and it turns out she was bitten. My instant reaction was to run off, but she was scared. So I just put my arm around her until one of the guys decided to take her off and… you know. It had to be done. So she turns to me and asked, "My mommy and daddy died." And I shook my head and really didn't have anything to say. I never had a family before. Some of those nuns told me that my mom dropped me in front of the door, supposedly near death, with pneumonia I think, and they could never find a family for me. Can you believe that I was the only one to survive out of the fifty people in that state funded hole they put me in?"

She nodded smirking, "Ugh, I've told that story a thousand times, I know. Anyway, tomorrow the guys are raiding a heavy tenement, and I'll be taking you live to see the action! This is Patch, signing off." She leaned over and clicked the camera.

The time code read 11:30am, on a Monday morning, and Patch was already at work, "This is Patch coming to you live from shit hall Milwaukee where I'm bringing you the unending journey of mankind's last battle for civilization…"

"That's so fucking corny!" KC laughed covering her face.

"Hey, it's what they would say in the news!" She panned the camera over to KC, a young woman with a large red head band along her forehead, dressed in tattered clothing and fingerless gloves.

"Eleanor, the news people are never that stupid."

"Did you see the last news reports?" Calvin asked walking by her.

"Still," she argued.

"KC, what have I told you a thousand times to call me?"

"Alright, fine, Patch," she nodded rolling her eyes.

"That's my name," she declared.

"Your records said Eleanor."

"My name is Patch!" Her smiled faded and she wore a thin grimace puffing her chest. "Okay, okay," she said backing down, "Relax kid."

"Alright, let it be known that KC was lying, viewers. I'm Patch." she dropped the camera and tied her bandana over her head. She shut it off and closed the view finder.

"It's 11:30 in the morning, you really should stop filming."

"I know," she explained, "I have a little battery life left until later."

"We have to ration the electricity."

"This is more important than Calvin's electric shaver," she argued.

"Which reminds me, you have four tapes of all this shit going on, where are you going to put it all?"

She shrugged, "Damned if I know, but people are going to wanna see this, don't you think? I mean, I could make millions when this all blows over."

"This isn't blowing over. We blew up four city blocks in the last week, that doesn't seem like progress."

"Bush would disagree."

"Bush is in a bunker sucking his thumb right now. Why doesn't he try to come out here with us and see what it's really like?"

Patch raised her brows in surprise, "That's going in the documentary."

"Only if I get some royalties from the film," she warned, "If there's anything left out here, that is."

"Well if anything we'll laugh about this later on."

KC chuckled at her dark response.

"Fuck the naysayers in this group, I'm just looking for something to do. It's easier to look behind a camera than your own eyes."

"You're a little girl, you shouldn't be using those bad words."

"Relax, mom. Everyone else does it."

"They're not thirteen, are they?"

Trucks rolled by the two sitting along the log in front of a small shelter in the out stretches of Milwaukee. KC, one of the few girls of the group was a Native American girl was often more confused for Hispanic than anything, and always tried to keep the smiles going for morale. Patch on the other hand was more like the mascot of the group. "The Marauders" was what they were called. They were, what the commanding offer said, "The Last Line of defense for the US," and Patch latched on to their operations three months ago after being discovered in an orphanage that was being destroyed by Patch's friends and authority figures who were all flesh eating ghouls. Not a single soul survived the raid of the undead, and Patch managed to evade their attacks for two weeks, living off of water and candy and surviving in the vents and abandoned closets.

She was always scurrying about and kept her cool through the attacks on her life, and even killed a few of her ex friends when they caught up to her. When found, the Marauders was unaware of her presence and disposed of every single victim in the school and stumbled on to Patch who'd attempted to bargain for her life. In many ways it's what drew them to her, her willingness to adapt to any situation and keep tagging on to them. She was very unlike a child to them, and that's what kept her different from other survivors. She had no family, no friends, and instantly became an unofficial part of the group. "It was better than a dog," the local soldier Calvin once proclaimed. They'd called her Patch when they found her, since her legs and arms were scratched up and patched down with assorted paper and tape she'd used as bandages. After a long inspection process, she was deemed healthy enough to be taken away and followed the group with the school's camcorder left behind by a local news crew.

"Knock Knock almost killed me yesterday."

"And what else is new?" KC asked passing her a thermos.

"What is his damage?"

"Obnoxious little kids waving camcorders in his face asking him annoying questions." Patch nodded, "But where do I fit in that?"

KC laughed.

"I told you a thousand times not to egg him on. He's an ex-con they shipped over to us and he has a bad temper."

"I know, but he's fun to annoy."

"All I'm saying is, stop teasing the lions."

"You don't think he'd actually break my arm, do you?"

KC raised a brow and shrugged unsure. Patch rubbed her right wrist in dread and ran to the camera looping the strap around her shoulder. Calvin, the leader of the group, a six foot tall bald thin black man with a bushy bearded, walked by, holding a small cup of tea and sipped it with a heavy sigh, "Hey Calvin!" Patch ran to him.

"Not today Patch, I'm trying to relax."

"I'm only going to be a few minutes."

"No interviews."

"It's not an interview, it's more a confessional."

"Oh dear god!" Crunch said storming out of a large tent, "We had to save a baby tabloid reporter, we just had to save her! We couldn't have shipped her off to Fort Pastor to get ripped to shreds."

Patch furrowed her brows watching him stomp off.

"He's in a good mood."

"Don't take that to heart," Calvin said patting her back, "He's just in a bad mood. We killed a bunch of little ones this morning."

"How many of them?"

"About seven or eight. They looked no older than ten. We were smashing a basement door and they came running out. We popped them down before they could make it out of the door."

She frowned and saw Crunch ranting to himself past the other members of the group. "The Bandana, where did you get it?"

"Hmm?" she asked breaking from her daze.

"That bandana, where did you get it?"

"I found it the other day hanging from one of the stores."

"Okay, good," he sighed relieved.

"Why?"

"The guys have been taking shit from the dead, and I thought…"

"Eww, gross. I'm not doing that."

"What's that camera about, then?"

"This wasn't snatched from the dead, I just found it, there's a difference."

"Oh, well, excuse me," he grinned.

"I wanted to show you some footage I got yesterday when we were in that apartment building by the East side."

"Alright, come on," he sighed walking into the tent. Propped with two large cots, a poker table, and two chairs, she sat down and propped the camcorder aiming the viewfinder his way. He stood over her and sat down looking at the camera. She pressed play and instantly the camera shot from behind a hallway window looking down at four corpses hunched over a dead body feasting on the torso. There was a silence as Patch sighed behind the camera, "I wonder who that was," she muttered under her breath in the footage.

"Oh, god, Patch."

"Just watch," she insisted.

"You were alone this entire time?"

"They were all gone when you guys went through the place, besides Crunch was in the next room."

"This is stupid of you."

"Just watch."

KC crept into frame and stood hunched in a corner. They were unaware of her presence and continued feasting as she signaled silently to someone behind her. She crept her head from the corner and pulled back. Suddenly one of the hunching dead popped up with its mouth filled with blood and the rest followed in attention.

"See?" She said pointing, "Right there."

"What? I don't see it."

"They knew she was there."

"I know, she made herself seen."

"But she didn't make a noise at all. I think they can smell her."

"Smell what?"

"The sweat, the perfume, whatever."

"Listen this is good research, but even if this was some sort of discovery, it doesn't help us. It's too late to really study these monsters, and all you have here is more of their carnage and nothing else. Give me something better next time and we'll talk, okay?" He walked off and she slumped her head along the table rewinding and playing, and rewinding and playing. She could see it sniff up and suddenly point in her direction. She replayed it and rushed off after the group.

The engines roared and she ran up to her small shelter preparing herself for the day. She slipped on her black wrist bands and saw into the distance two of the dead creeping up to the camp site. She gasped, set it on, and ran through the crowds of soldiers grabbing their weapons.

"Patch, back up!" KC barked pushing her away.

"I have to get this!" she yelled

"How many of them are there?" Calvin asked.

"About two right now, but there's always more!" Crunch barked looking through his binoculars. "Live at the scene, this is a first," Patch muttered filming, "For once we've been found by the dead, and they're moving very slowly. Do these things have scouts? Do they have decoys? They're kneeling down in lines and preparing to fire, but they haven't done it yet."

"Shoot them!" Crunch declared.

"No, no, wait!" Calvin yelled to the group, "They're not close enough to pose a threat." They formed a line and drew their guns. Patch squirmed her way through the fields and found herself behind the line, camera drawn.

"Are there anymore?" KC asked.

Crunch stood with his binoculars.

"Status report?" Calvin asked.

"I see only two right now." He continued looking and dropped onto the ground, "We just need a sniper to knock them out and we'll be on our way. If we fire at random, we'll attract more."

"Get the rifle and grab KK," Calvin ordered.

Crunch gave a whistle with his fingers and Knock Knock rushed out with his rifle in tow. "Stand down, and start packing it all up, KK, take out the drifters." Patch ran past the soldiers and followed Knock Knock who dropped to the ground and began to aim.

"Knock Knock prepares to kill the intruders."

"You can't kill…," he adjusted his aim and shot one, blasting its skull to the ground, "What died a long time ago." He shot again knocking the other drifter's head clean off its shoulders, "You can only take out their internal computers." Patch chuckled and doubled back as he strapped the rifle around his shoulder and rushed off.

"Are there anymore around here?" Patch asked.

"Good question," KC replied.

"If there are two, there will likely be fifty to follow," Calvin declared, "Everyone prepare to pack up and get the hell out of this area."

"The walls are closing in," Crunch nodded disappointed.

"We're losing safe areas, Captain," Knock Knock said, "We have to find high ground or something, or else we'll have more of these shit heads visiting us at night."

"Just pack your shit up," Calvin insisted, "We have orders and a job to do."

"Two down, a billion to go." Patch whispered and zoomed in as closely as possible showing the remains of the dead scattered along the grass. She looked around as the soldiers rushed back and forth and she braved getting in closer.

"Patch!" KC screamed.

Patch sighed and shut off her camera.

"Get your stuff now, I'm not fucking with you!"

She groaned and ran off to her shelter, KC grabbed her by the arm mid run.

"What?" She asked surprised.

"What the fuck were doing?"

"Nothing, let go of my arm."

"You think that I don't know you? You were going to go out there."

"So what?"

"So, we don't even know if there are more waiting for us in the grass. That was a stupid thing you did."

"Big deal, so I die. It's going to hell anyway, right? Let go of my fucking arm, now." She tore it away and stormed off. KC followed after and Patch began packing her bag up. "KC, back to your tent, we're out of here!" Calvin ordered. She stopped and rushed off to her own quarters. Patch packed the camcorder and ran out after the platoon who was speeding back and forth like they were being attacked. But they may as well have, since they'd been discovered. Where one loomed, many others followed, and it was only a matter of time until they were greeted with hundreds of the walking dead.

They were discovered. And it hadn't even been a year, yet. They'd spent the time camping out in open fields for a few days at a time, and now they were being hunted by those they were hunting. This was a disturbing revelation that spread along the entire platoon as the hour wore on and they prepared to duck out into the afternoon. The space was getting tighter, and Calvin was forced to wonder if the job was worth sacrificing lives, in the end. Because regardless of how many apartments they raided, or perimeters they secured, there was always a hundred more that took their places, and it seemed endless.


	2. No Quarter: Chapter Two

They sat bunched up in the trucks, elbow to elbow, knee to knee

They sat bunched up in the trucks, elbow to elbow, knee to knee. All tents and supplies were packed up, but now the remaining trinkets were left at the camp site, hopefully to be retrieved some day soon. They'd naturally assumed getting it when the job was done. Or so Calvin told them. Trucks and cars still sped down the roads past them and they watched the survivors took last ditch efforts to escape the wrath of the dead, but they all knew it was too late.

"How many times have we been infiltrated since you guys started?"

"Twice, and this was the second time, incidentally."

"When was the first?"

"Back when this all started. We were given a full lay out of the plans for this large cul de sac, and we weren't told that the dead were roaming free. What we were told was the dead had been closed off in a small corner of the cul de sac behind a few of the houses. So, as soon as approached the loud roars of the dead echoed so loudly, we were too shaken to approach at first. But we eventually managed to build their bodies into a pile which slowed them down and we closed off the cul de sac. We lost about seven guys that day. And we had to take them down, too."

"I heard some survivors tried to get in without weapons or something," Crunch said. "No, no, they tried to raid the cul-de-sac with hammers and bats to take back the houses," Eric said.

"What happened to them?" Knock Knock smirked.

"They got sucked in," he laughed making a sucking sound, "Those things just grabbed on to them and never let go." He laughed clutching his rifle.

"What are you laughing about?" He scoffed.

"It's funny. How you gonna go in to that group of walking dead when they outnumber you and go in with fucking sticks and hammers?"

"At least they tried," KC said.

"They tried… to loot the place, and failed."

"It's easy for you to laugh, you're the immigrant," Crunch chuckled.

"You're the convict," he declared, "What was it again, you robbed a bank and tripped over a cop, right?"

"Shut up," he laughed punching at him, "Iranian motherfucker."

"Nigga, I'm Dominican," he declared, "It's just the tan skin and bushy black eyebrows that fools you KKK members."

"Do you think they could have beaten them with the weapons if there were only four or something?" asked Patch.

"Only if there were four," Eric replied, "I don't mind smacking one over the head with a bat, but, like they say: Happiness is a Warm Gun."

"Shoot shoot bang bang!" Crunch wooted. The group cheered.

"The Captain knows the words to that song better than any of us," Eric said nudging him. Calvin forced a smile and looked down.

"Can you tell us your name again?"

"Captain Calvin Montalvo, I'm the acting Captain for the Marauders."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm acting in place of someone else."

"And who is the someone?"

"Patch, you should do this another time."

She lowered her camera, "Okay, can we just move on to another question, at least?" He sighed and nodded looking away.

"Why was there so much panic today over two drifters?"

"It means that they found us," Crunch responded angrily, Patch quickly panned over to him, "It means that someone sensed us and they followed."

"They're not someone's anymore," Knock Knock replied, "They're things."

"That's sick," KC sneered.

"It's true, KC. You know it."

"Of course I know it, but show them some respect, either way."

"Yes, yes, let's all show some respect to those fuckers," Eric announced.

"Eric, shut up," KC rolled her eyes.

"We'll all invite them over for a parade, and then have some sort of ceremony, whaddya say?"

"You're quite a comedian," she groaned.

"All I'm saying is: You're the reason why we're losing the war."

"Right, I started the whole cannibal thing."

"No, people like you, KC. The people who just can't get over the fact that they were once humans. They're monsters now, just because they look human…"

"Yeah, yeah, we all read the pamphlets," KC interrupted. Patch furrowed her brows and panned the camera over to her pressing record.

"What's your name, again?" Patch asked.

"I told you it in every one of those stupid videos, Patch."

"Well, do it again, please."

"I'm officer KC Hennig, I do patrol."

"And…"

"…I'm Knock Knock, I handle explosives and sharp shooting--"

"—Crunch: ballistics and reconnaissance--"

"—Eric Rijos, volunteer infantry--"

"—Lindsey Roman, I'm just the driver," A short pudgy Hispanic girl in army fatigues said waving in the distance.

"You guys are jumping ahead."

"We're just trying to get the annoyance out of the way," Crunch replied.

"_**Anyway**_," she said panning over to Calvin, "Why did you put such a rush when we were found, Captain?"

"Because of what Crunch said. We were found by two and it meant a lot more were on the way. If they make sounds of hunger, others will follow, and we'll find ourselves being overrun. We're one of the last of the military platoons out in the city knocking them down, and we can't afford to fuck up."

"I remember when we were stationed in Colorado," Eric said nodding, "We woke up at dawn to go over procedure and we saw one. We capped it, ignored it, and moved on. Then there were three, and then seven, and then within a little under an hour, about ninety or so. It was amazing we made it out."

"What did you say about the walls?"

"I said nothing about walls," Calvin replied, "I said the walls were closing in. Day by day the space is getting smaller and we're losing ground. Those things are getting bigger and smarter."

"Captain!" Lindsey called, "HQ is on the phone." He stood up and walked to the front of the truck.

"And there's the other shit," Knock Knock mentioned.

"Like what?" asked Patch.

"Speeding cars, difficult survivors, the weather, and the looters," Eric explained.

"Particularly the looters," Crunch said, "They've become very organized lately. They drive around in packs and just steal. It's surprising."

"Is that new?"

"I never seen anything like it, that's for sure," Crunch replied. She leaned back and closed the view finder, shutting off the camera. "Are we cool?" KC asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she said pursing her lips.

"You know you can't risk--"

"—Can we just drop it?"

"Okay," she sighed leaning back.

"We have a site, people!" Calvin shouted, "It's a small tenement on the East Side, three floors, three apartments per floor, and a lot of shit heads festering in the place! Command wants the "Marauders" to come in clean the place out before they burst from the seams, are we going in or not?!"

There was a short silence.

"I say we go in," Crunch declared.

"Me too," KC replied.

"We have seventeen people with us, I doubt we'd be at risk of an ambush," Knock Knock replied.

"If we are, though, you bring your equipment."

"Yes sir," Knock Knock replied.

"If we go in, we go in fast and we go in hard, and we watch our backs! That means that everyone's eyes and ears are set to alert and you keep all head gear and equipment inactive, are we all clear?!"

"Yes sir!" They shouted in unison.

"How bad are the tenements?" Patch asked panning her camera over to Crunch.

"Very bad, these places are crowded, have a lot of entrances and exits, and most likely are crowded with the walking dead. Too many guys went down hunting those things in one of those places. We have to find the heart of it and stop it and then it becomes a lot easier to bring these assholes down. They're not human anymore, if you go into these places trying to assign an identity to them you're going to get bit and then you're going down with the rest."

"What do you think KC?"

"I think if you spend a lot of time feeling sad about them, you're going to get killed. And that's why we lost so many of our guys right at the beginning."

"We lost about a hundred of them," Crunch agreed.

"And rising," Knock Knock replied.

"How about we interview you?" KC grabbed the camera and turned it on to Patch who sat looking up sitting down on the floor amidst the soldiers.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm tired, and I have to pee."

"What's it like to be in a platoon of invalids, and rejects?"

"It's the bee's knees," she scoffed.

"Why do you follow us around to this day?"

"I have nowhere else to go."

"If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?"

"Anywhere but here."

KC scoffed panning the camera over to the back of the truck.

"Put the camera away, now, please," Calvin ordered.

"Why?" asked KC.

"Because if you don't, I'll toss it out the back of this truck to play target practice with." KC huffed passing it to Patch who quickly stashed it in her bag.

"I think it's when it stops becoming difficult to kill is when you've lost your mind," Knock Knock presumed.

"And when it starts becoming fun," Eric giggled.

"Killing these things isn't fun," Dave argued.

"Of course it is," Eric replied, "You ever see them fall down a flight of steps? They barely feel a thing at all. They don't even get dazed."

"Can I film please?" Patch pleaded to Calvin.

"Only if you want to get out of this truck to fetch it."

She smacked the floor leaning back.

"What about the kids?" asked KC.

"What about 'em?" Eric shrugged, "They're smaller targets, but still the same comical misadventures like the grown ones."

"Sometimes tagging them before they turn is fun, too," Knock Knock declared.

No one drew attention to his declaration except for KC who leaned forward in shock. "What did you say?"

"You have to cut to cure, sometimes, KC," he argued.

"You kill little kids?"

"Have killed little kids, yep."

"You seem proud at that fact."

"Cut the morality crap, KC," Lindsey rolled her eyes, "We all tagged nearly dead or freshly bitten, it's just how it goes." She nodded scoffing.

"When did that happen?" Calvin asked standing over the squad.

"In some church over at New York," he explained, "We were done snuffing out a small group of survivors who'd turned and in the midst of the carnage, she ran out holding her arm and crying so I capped her in the head. She didn't feel a thing."

"You didn't check to see if she was bitten?" Patch asked.

"You don't cry like that if you ain't, orphan."

"Sir, we're up on the site," Lindsey announced.

"Ready the arms, ready the amms, and all eyes forward," Calvin announced, "Keep your elbows touching at all times, shoot everything that goes for you, and most importantly do not wander off. The minute you do, then you'll go down too. By the dead, or by me, are we understood?!" They hooted loudly in unison and held their firearms up high. "Patch…?"

"I know, Captain, keep back, and stay out of the fucking way."

"Head of the Class." Screams emerged and the cornered off tenement could be seen only a few yards away. All evidence of the local authorities were gone, and all the pulses were snuffed out in the hail of the shambling dead now lurking around outside. Someone had seen fit to close off the front entrance in time, and now whatever was in the four floor building was contained and likely to burst at any time.

The four police cars with doors ajar, formed a thin line with the remains of something that was likely human in the past. All evidence of gender were gone, and all that was seen was a thick dark red puddle of guts and blood and some evidence of a face. The blood trails led into bushes surrounding the building, a sight that did not fill Calvin with the greatest optimism. He wanted to move on, but then they'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble with HQ, and would be holding back the progress they'd convinced themselves they were making. The truck stopped and the screams were head inside the building ahead. "It's four floors, four apartments, and heavy walking spaces," Lindsey announced.

"You know the routine, Roman," Calvin explained, "You wait here and fend off whatever tries to get in."

"I hope we're still cramped up when it's time to book," she tisked.

He sighed and turned running off the truck. He stepped back as they ran out onto the ground and fired onto the drifters emerging from the bushes. "The door's barred," Dave announced observing the entrance.

"Bring it down, then," Calvin ordered.

"Knock Knock."

"Just bring the fucking boards down," Knock Knock barked.

"Fuck that, you do it," Dave stormed off.

"Knock Knock, just shoot something in there," Calvin ordered.

He popped a grenade from his chest popped the pin with his thumb and chucked it at the door. They all turned for cover except Knock Knock and the explosion blasted through the bullshit.

Dave and Eric rushed to the smoking hole and fired into the darkness blasting figured in the dust and cleared back as the second line jumped into the door and began firing as the groans became louder while approaching. The bodies fell to the floor, and a young man drenched in blood jumped out from the corner clutching on to KC's arm, she staggered with him clutching on to her arm anxiously gnawing at her wrist padding and she jerked him back with the knee to the gut. He fell back growling and they fired into his face finishing him off. "Report, KC," Calvin grunted. "Just the padding, sir," she declared. Patch ignored. She rushed in after them with the recording camera in tow and crouched down behind them sinking into the corner. She panned over to the dead teenager tattered and battered with his face demolished.

"We're heading for the top," Calvin announced standing near the steps. Dave fired behind him. "If we have no pulses after the second floor, we demolish the steps and retreat, clear?!" They hooted. "You see bites, you see scratches, you see blood, and you shoot!" Knock Knock rushed up behind him lugging equipment. Shadows dashed above them, and cries were still heard. "On my lead!" The clomping of their boots were heard like unison thunder blasting along the concrete steps, and Patch ran up after them following their heads as they entered onto the second floor blasting at every corner. Screams were halted by gunfire, and doors came crashing down from the seams. Patch stood by the end of the second floor kneeling down and filming their raid as people ran out from doors and were tagged before they could approach the group. Fire rang out next to Patch's head, she yelped and dropped down to the floor panting.

"Get the fuck out of there!" KC screamed. She looked down and a body tumbled down the steps and back into the lobby. "Fuck," she grunted running with the camera in tow. Fire rang out from apartment to apartment and bodies staggered out. Eric drop kicked a woman to the floor blasting her skull.

"Back the fuck off!" A young black woman screamed with a revolver drawn.

"Get out and get to the truck," Eric ordered.

"I ain't going anywhere without my dad!"

"Just get out of the way of the fucking door, or we shoot," Dave barked. She fired missing the group standing by the door. They ducked down, "She doesn't want to be helped," Eric announced.

Dave stood up, tagged her in the head and she tumbled back crashing into a table. "Alright, clear out the back room, possible flooding," KC warned.

"Whatever it is you're looking for, find it and get the fuck out!" Lindsey ordered over the radio, "We got visitors coming by and they're overstaying their welcome." They all gasped acknowledging her pleas, and gun fire broke over the radio. "Fuck the back room, next floor, let's go!" Calvin screamed.


	3. No Quarter: Chapter Three

"What's in the back room?" Patch ran along the African girl's body and stood in front of the doorway, her eyes planted down on the camera the entire time and she panted waiting for a noise. She took a deep swallow and licked her lips in anticipation awaiting some sort of rejoinder. "Hello?" she asked in a barely audible voice. She looked over by the doorknob and saw it rattle slightly. "Is anyone in there?" she asked in a slightly louder voice. There was a loud slam on the door that nearly knocked her to her butt, and she panted heavily hearing the growls emerge from behind the door. It was sturdy, and it was definitely solid, and she didn't seem to find a worry in the situation. She panned down at the African girl who lay on the floor still as stone, with a pool of blood leaking along the floor.

She could hear the scratching from under the door as if someone were scratching to get at the scent of blood and zoomed in on the scurrying shadows from behind the door. There seemed to be four, judging by the foot steps in the distance, but she was braving it getting so close to the corpses. She knelt down and tore the gun from her hand stuffing it in the back of her pants, and turned over to the window where she saw the drifters wandering around. A shot rang out above her head and she jumped over the body running up through the hall to the groups who rushed through the stairs knocking down corpses. "Where are we headed?!" Patch yelled running behind the shadows into the next floor.

"They're blocking the entrance!" Calving yelled. Fire rang out like beating of giant drums, and figures fell to the ground with plops and growls. A body ran over to the edge and swooped down into the stair well smacking its limbs against the railings along the way, and they finally entered into the next floor looking down at the bodies. "Cap the twitchers," Crunch announced. Patch squeezed past the group and walked over the bodies with her camera panning over each of them one after the other, their mangled faces, and bloated blue skin burst with every shot to the skull, "Patch, get away from them," KC ordered. "Wait, I have to get the shot."

"You're gonna get bit if you don't get over here."

She sighed closing the camera and ran over to her.

"Are you stupid or something?"

"No, I just wanted to get a close up," she argued.

"You're gonna get you ass killed!" she growled waving her finger at her.

"There's no one left…"

"—What?"

"There's no one left…" she whispered. KC furrowed her brows and stood straight. "There's only one and you killed her," Patch explained.

"There has to be someone…"

"There's no one left…" Patch insisted with a grimace, "It's all done."

"KC, up in front," Calvin called charging the group. She turned running after them and they made their way to the end of the hall way to a boarded and barricaded doorway.

"We can go."

"We have to shut them down, if there's no one left," Eric declared.

"We don't want them spreading," Crunch explained.

"They're already spreading!" KC yelled, "Everywhere you turn they're there, what difference would this make?!"

"Keep quiet, and prepare for the charge!" Calvin barked.

"Captain, there's a shit load of them, and if we bust that door open, we're fucked, do you understand?!" KC urged, "We have to turn back now!"

Calvin sighed and turned, "Hit it, Knock Knock!" Patch panted and etched back with her camera in tow shaking from anxiousness. If it became too much, she'd make a run for it. He rolled the bomb over to the door and sped off to them. Calvin held his watch, "Three...two... one..."

They prepped their guns sticking them up, and the bomb blew.

"Woo!" Dave screamed pumping his fists.

"Get ready!" Crunch screamed nearly breaking the sound barrier.

Before the smoke could clear, hands emerged from the doorway, and the frames busted open as the dead poured from the room. Hordes of the walking dead tripped over one another, groans emerging from the air, as they reached for them. They all flinched slightly, and the fires raged. Gunfire, grenade launchers, and all sorts of firearms blasted into the doorway, as the groups etched back firing non-stop.

"How many?!" Calvin screamed.

"Back up, don't let them crowd you!" KC screamed firing her machine gun off.

"In the heads, only in the heads!!" Crunch ordered.

"There's so many," Patch whispered zooming in on the rabid growling faces by the literal bunches.

"How many, goddamnit?!"

"Eighty too many!" Knock knock yelled crouching in the corner.

"Book it!" KC screeched.

"No, we have to get in there!" Crunch screamed over the gunfire, "Stick by the doorway and ready the dynamite!"

Knock Knock gave the thumbs up.

"Now!" Crunch screamed.

Knock Knock flicked a switch and a line of the floor blew open splitting them apart. The dead continued as they growled falling slowly into the hole down into the next floor. "Where does that go?" asked Calvin.

"Who gives a fuck?" Crunch replied, "They're almost gone."

The firing died down as the dead took the bait falling one after the other into the darkness, others tripped over one another and made the attempt to leap being shot dead by the soldiers. "Shit!" Calvin said tearing his helmet off.

"We have to get the hell out of here, while we can!" KC shouted.

"Nothing here, let's report back," Calvin concurred. Patch began running down the steps before they could announce it, and as she scurried down with her camera now packed in her bag, she could hear the soldiers rumbling down behind her, and the growls emerged. "They're in the next floor!" Patch screamed up to them. She tore the gun from her pants and aimed nervously. She turned her face and shot twice barely catching anything but a wall and whimpered running back down the steps. Shots rang out in the doorway, the frame nearly busted off from the machine gun shots, and they pressed on finally catching wind of her. "Keep going!" Crunch replied. She rushed down and saw the front doorway cluttered by the drifters. Shots rang out and bodies dropped as Roman cleared a path.

"Come on, come on!" she waved her over. She dropped to her knees and ran along the grabbing hands as the soldiers burst from the door kicking them down, and shooting bodies to the floor. She jumped onto the truck and caught their fight in inches away aiming her camera. "How many are left?" Roman yelled.

"All of them," she explained.

"How many are alive in there?"

"No one," she said near tears, "Everyone's gone."

The truck sped along the shaky roads and the bobbing heads were silent and thick with deafening remorse and tension. No one looked at each other and neither of them bothered to check the status, or ask where their next surge was. There was a blink of light in the distance, Patch zoomed in on it and closed it tucking it into her bag.

"Another gas station," Eric muttered lowering his head.

"How many is that?" asked Crunch.

"I don't care," he responded slumping in his seat.

"They were all gone," KC sighed.

"Why did we even go there?" asked Dave.

"We were told there were survivors."

"And then what, Captain?"

He thought for a second and turn to the windshield looking behind Roman.

"He doesn't even know," KC groaned.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" asked Eric.

"Did you know what we'd do with them?" she asked softly, "What about you Dave?" There was a short silence. "Knock Knock…? Crunch…?" She nodded, "Of course you don't. We don't even know what we're doing at all."

"You'd suggest we lay down and die?" asked Calvin.

"I suggest we find somewhere to huddle down, and stay there until this blows over, _**Captain**_," she said pressing on his name with a fierce anger.

"And desert, correct?"

"It's not deserting, it's survival."

"Then why don't you go survive on your own?"

"What are we even doing this for?" she argued, "There's no one left. Apartments, houses, barns, dog houses, it's all nothing but death and cannibalism. We're losing, we've _lost_, why not wait for them to find a cure for it and then emerge when we get the signal? We don't even have to tell them."

"There has to be someone out there, there is still someone left."

"Yeah, keep sticking to that delusion," KC nodded.

"Watch your candor, KC. Remember I'm still the captain here."

"By proxy, Calvin. Remember _that_. I'm the only one making sense here, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, can the Messiah complex, baby," Dave snickered.

"Shut up!"

"You're setting us up to die is what you're doing," Eric argued.

"It's a miracle we didn't die back there, either way," KC declared, "You saw it. It's all gone. What's out there is what was in that fucking complex. The dead just want to consume us, and we are still making believe the dead are alive. No wonder it's all going to hell. If we keep this up, it won't be long until we're all either one of those things are eaten alive. First we made believe they're human, and now we're making believe their pests to get rid of, when it's neither. We have to wait somewhere until it all blows over."

"You said it won't blow over, remember?" Patch asked gazing into her view finder. "Who the fuck is talking to you?" KC murmured.

"Oh, _now_ she's your enemy," Crunch rolled his eyes.

"I'm talking to blocks of wood," KC grumbled.

"We should go back to HQ," Roman suggested.

"When they tell us to."

"And when will that be, sir?" asked Knock Knock.

"When it's appropriate," he declared, "Are we all understood?"

They nodded silently. Calvin turned looking to the windshield.

"It won't blow over," Patch warned.

"If that's true then why are you so calm about it?" KC muttered.

"I'm scared, but… I don't mind it too much. I never really got what was so exciting about everything out there. All I saw was the window outside my orphanage, and nothing. Then when they all went away, all I saw was a closet, and some vents. It sounds cheesy, but I haven't lived an actual life to where I'll miss it… you know?" Patch scoffed gazing into the viewfinder, pressing play, and then rewind, and then play. KC pursed her lips and lowered her head. "You keep reviewing the complex incident, don't you?" Knock Knock asked.

"No."

"You should stop looking at that stuff."

"Why?"

"I don't know…," he gave a half smile and scoffed, "I guess it's not healthy for a kid your age." Patch nodded. "Seeing all that stuff so young…" Patch turned her back looking into the viewfinder. He got the hint and leaned back to close his eyes.

It was footage back in the streets of the city when they were still hopeful they could reclaim it from the walking dead. This was a long time ago, apparently, and she'd found it in herself to sneak off and take hold of whatever footage she could while the getting was good. It was the only thing she watched before she went to sleep, and it's the only thing she watched after waking up. She barely drew a twinge of emotion looking back at the group and rewound the tape finally finding what she wanted to see. She sat down settling in

A woman lay on her side, groaning. All that moved were her hands scratching against the sidewalk. On the side of her head there lay a large gaping wound where her skull cracked, some had already been chewed down by passers by. Her dark brown hair lay strewn about as her business suit, covered in blood, hers, everyone else's, scattered in pieces along the sidewalk. Her breasts showed in the sunlight, and she clutched her pouch in her left arm. Her legs, one of which shoeless, twitched along the concrete with a slow scratching, and her fingers scraped down against the sidewalk. "My... baby...," she said in a low whisper, "My... baby..."

"Your baby?" Patch asked, "Where's your baby?"

"My... baby..."

"Where's your baby?" she pressed, "Is she dead?"

"My... baby..." She looked up at her. The microphone thumped as she closed in one the woman's eyes. She didn't move.

"Look at the wound in her head," Patch whispered to the camera, "She was probably beaten near death or… was hit by a car." The woman looked up in a daze. "Someone started eating her, too. But they moved on. She was obviously unable to defend herself." She turned around as the gunfire went off in the distance and she knelt down beside her, "Look at her legs. She didn't last long." She grabbed a close-up of her eyes which were partly concealed from swollen eyelids, and busted capillaries covering her lower lids. Scattered shots went off in the distance. "Her spine is broken," she said poking at her. "Patch?!" KC called off in the distance off the camera, "We're going in two!" Patch dropped the camera, picked up a brick and with one quick thrust smacked it down on the woman's head. The blood poured and only the cracks of her head could be heard off camera.

"How long do you think it will be until we find a safe zone?" Roman asked.

"It won't be long, now. The local military propped different symbols for the assigned armed forces to follow in case they wanted a place to hide out."

"Will I see it?"

"No, it's a special symbol only certain officers can find. It's so the public won't be compelled to go to these places before the soldiers do."

"That's sleazy."

"That's just how it is."

"I bet there's someone in much more need of help than we are."

"And they won't find it. Now quit the hinting and we'll talk when we get to the mark." Roman nodded obediently.


	4. No Quarter: Chapter Four

"There it is," Calvin mumbled pointing ahead.

"Where?" Roman slowed down at a train track. The border came down and a small crowd of drifters emerged unaware of their presence. "Follow the sign." Roman observed a hook plastered onto a diamond shaped rail road sign and shrugged. "I'm not getting it, sir." Calvin sat beside her, "Turn right and make your way up to the tracks, and once we get about a four yards off the fork, just make a quick right." Roman sighed puffing her cheeks and turned speeding past the drifters along the tracks.

"I want food. I want water. I want a fucking shower," Dave declared.

"I just want some sanctuary," Eric grumbled.

The portly Dave brushed his black ponytail behind his back and tore his bandana off his head. "I'm wondering if they have any women there, too."

"Where?" Patch asked.

"At the base," Eric replied lifting his gray cap to scratch his thinning black hair, "We're headed there, last I remembered." Eric stood up observing the power lines swooping down above them. "Oh yeah!" Eric and Dave smacked hands, "We're getting there!" KC nodded rolling her eyes.

"Where is there?" Patch asked.

"Just keep your mouth shut and dry up when we get there," Crunch muttered.

"Don't bully her, Crunch."

"I don't want her spouting off about that failed raid."

"Everyone knows it failed, anyway," Knock Knock interrupted, "Do you see any survivors here with us?"

"How much of that footage did you get while we were there?" He asked.

"None of your business," she replied.

"I could break your arm like a Chicken Wing."

"Damn, you must have been a _great_ father," Dave said sarcastically.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up, fat ass?"

"Did your daughter often arrive at school with bruises and broken arms, or…?" Crunch drew his gun and Dave barely flinched gazing slightly bored. "Take it back, smart ass!" Dave pursed his lips feeling the gun press against his forehead. Patch lifted her camera pressing Record without their notice.

"Just put the gun down, Dirty Harry," Eric ordered.

"Tell your boy to shut up."

"Crunch, put the gun down!" KC yelled.

"Tell him to shut his goddamn mouth, or I'll splatter his brains all over this truck." KC leaned forward to him, "As your commanding officer, I am ordering you to put the fucking gun down!" Dave grew a slight smirk.

"You have no idea what kind of father I was," he sneered.

"Threatening little girls proves that, right?"

"Dave shut up!" KC barked.

Dave sighed looking ahead at Crunch.

"You're gonna shut up, now?" Crunch mumbled.

"Do I ever?" Dave scoffed.

"You say shit like that again, and I'll kill you, I swear--"

"--That's the fifth time you threatened him," Eric nodded rolling his eyes, "You're gonna have to off him before he gets bored, man." Crunch holstered his gun.

"Who the fuck asked you?"

"Well, he did ask nicely," Dave joked.

Patch sighed shutting the camera down and closed it up.

"Just leave the kid alone, alright?" Dave warned.

Crunch fumed nodding glassy eyed.

"Hey!" Knock knock smacked his hand against the front seat, "Are we almost there yet, or what? They're re-enacting a scene of "Deer Hunter," over here!" Calvin turned walking up, "What happened here?" Eric scoffed nodding.

"Nothing Calvin," KC said angered under her breath, "I settled it for you. Go back to your bubble, sir." He furrowed his brows and sat back down beside Lindsey.

"Are we almost there?" asked Knock Knock.

"We're right up the home stretch," Calvin said scouting the open view, "Now turn." Lindsey jumped off the tracks, the tires screeched kicking up a heavy cloud of dust and they sped down the path into a far off stretch of metal linked fences camouflaged by brush, weeds, and junk that had purposely been spread to avoid any and all intruders, alive or dead. It wasn't a healthy practice of stealth, but Calvin agreed that it was necessary for their own survival. Roman raised her brow in surprise as the base become wider and larger the faster they went, and they'd finally found a safe haven, however temporary they may have been.

"How many of these are there?" Roman asked.

"I've been told six," Calvin muttered.

"What does that mean?" She looked to him and he stared silently ahead. He turned on the radio and slipped the head set on, "Alpha Fox 1, this is Montalvo, we're headed into home base for retreat and intel, please stand by." The radio whirred, "Montalvo you and yours are clear for entrance, how many?"

"Firm at eight."

"No survivors?"

"No, sir."

There was a moment of dead air, and then the gates opened. "Eyes and ears ahead, all questions are muffled, we get the work done, the intel finished, and we head out as soon as the order comes through, are we clear?"

There was a collective silent nod.

"And keep the cat fights to a minimum."

"He told us," Dave quipped.

"Dave, what's that?" Calvin asked.

"Nothing sir, you're the boss. Go you."

Eric scoffed. Crunch gave an exasperated sigh.

"What?" Dave shrugged to Crunch, "No offense, Daddy dearest." They pulled up to the gates and sped in like a bullet, as the gates quickly closed and the tarps dropped down along the fences. "This is new," Patch chuckled recording. The back doors opened and they filed out quickly, Patch nearly tumbled over being pushed aside by Crunch who stomped off ahead of the group.

"Only eight?" A grizzled Sergeant dressed in fatigues with a thick white mustache barked observing the group.

"Yes, sir," Calvin said sharply.

"KC, it's nice to see you."

"Thank you, sir."

"The rest of you, feel free to roam about, KC and Calvin, let's chat, shall we?" He turned walking off. Calvin stepped forward, "Sir, I relieved KC of her duties on the way here." The Sergeant turned, "That's nice, but if it's alright with you I'd really like to speak with KC as well, since she's been pushing up dirt with you since this started. Is that okay?" Calvin sighed nodding. "Well, good! Thank you for the permission. Come." He turned storming off and Calvin flashed her a nasty grimace running up behind him.

Patch spun around slowly with the camera in tow and caught wind of the base, it was an astonishing sight after the months of road warfare, "What's this place called?"

"I don't know," Roman said sitting sideways at the front seat of the truck cleaning her nails, "Call it whatever you want. Hook's point, maybe."

"That's stupid," Patch chuckled.

"Well, you're six, use your imagination."

"I'm thirteen, idiot, not six."

"Tomato, Tomoto."

"How old are you?"

"I'm a year older than Dave," she explained.

"Twenty-three, then?"

"Good arithmetic skills, sport!" she boasted sarcastically, "Want to go film somewhere that's not here?" She groaned and walked off gazing into the view finder.

"We entered into the complex prepared to find survivors, but the few we did find refused our services. In spite of our best efforts, they were adamant in their insistence to stay with their loved ones who'd turned."

"How many survivors did you find?" he asked sitting behind his desk.

"About seven," Calvin replied clearing his throat and repositioning himself uncomfortably, "One man, five women, and a child." KC lowered her head and tore her bandana away from her hair fixing it impulsively.

"So, there's likelihood the survivors are there?"

"It's possible, sir."

"So, why didn't you just force them into the trucks?"

"There was a glut of them in and around the apartment building, sir, and we were pressed for time. Roman was close to leaving us, and even threatened to."

"Roman threatened to leave?"

"Yes, sir."

KC leaned over rubbing her head angrily. The Sergeant noticed her behavior and leaned back. There was a long silence and he slid down in his chair connecting his hands. "And you can corroborate this claim, KC?" She looked up biting her lower lip. And nodded slowly. "KC? Can you?" She gave a deep sigh, and Calvin looked over to her. "In spite of our best efforts, sir, we were unable to attain the survivors." He tilted his head, and nodded, "Okay. We're done, here. Dismissed" They stood up saluting him and walked off.

"What was that?" KC asked walking behind Calvin.

"KC, you're dismissed."

"What the fuck was that--?! Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Calvin stopped.

"What the hell was that, you're selling out your own platoon?"

"Hey, I didn't see you step in to stop me."

"You put me on the spot!" She barked, "You know if I'd have ratted you out, the entire group would have turned on me."

"Well, it's a good thing you know your place, then." She pushed him. He stumbled forward and turned approaching her.

"Go ahead," she warned.

"Remember who the superior is, you fucking brown cunt."

"Oh, so now we're calling it like it is, right?"

Calvin nodded.

"And you're just some drug dealing gangster thug who got lucky…," she growled, "You can't even control your own goddamn platoon."

"We're on this again."

"Yeah, we're on this again. We all know the only reason why you're even leading us is because you ratted out a superior, and took his place! Which, if we remember, got him killed out there shortly after. And now you're selling out good people like Roman and telling bold face fucking lies when you know as much as I do that it's all shit!"

"You have no clue what I'm doing out there. If I keep telling them what they want to hear, they'll stay off of our backs!"

"And then what, Calvin?"

"It's Captain-Montalvo. If you ever call me Calvin again, I'll remind you who has the power." KC crossed her arms. "We have to tell them that we found something, or else we'll be taken out of active duty! We have to keep a specific quota in body count and survivor sightings, even if we have to fabricate it for them, do you not get this?"

"So what are you telling me?"

"That mission failed. So we made good out of it. If we couldn't find survivors, then we had to go in there and shoot without asking, don't you get it? We got the job done even if we didn't find survivors."

"And what about Roman?"

"Try worrying about yourself, for once KC."

"You're spineless. You're nothing but a tool. You know once Roman is taken out of active duty she just becomes another survivor and will be shipped out to one of those god forsaken shit holes! She's better off out there in the field, and you're leaving her behind! She won't stand a chance drifting from place to place!"

"I worry about mine, understood? I don't give a fuck what happens beyond the sergeant's command." She pursed her lips and turned toward the sergeant's cabin. "I could tell him everything that went on out there."

"Yeah, and we'll see who he wants to believe," Calvin nodded walking off, "You're dismissed KC. Go do a rain dance or something."

Patch hovered over the soldiers with her camera in tow watching as they passed the time in front of a green tarp listening to a small radio play back cassettes of classic rock and old pop. It was something she'd never seen before as five of the base's residents laughed and howled along arguing back and forth sipping old wine foraged from a supermarket two cities away.

"No, it was Freddy Mercury!" Eric laughed.

"Freddy Mercury, are you fucking high?" Dave argued.

"No one was better than him, asshole."

"I can think of a million people, puto," Lindsey nodded, "Robert Plant, Roger Daltry, Janis Joplin--"

"—Ah, Joplin sucks," Eric declared. They roared in hisses and boos as he laughed insisting on his argument. "She's Not There" began to play over the small radio. It was barely audible among the small groups of soldiers, but it cut through the laughing and arguing like a knife. "Oh, there's Crunch," Dave laughed.

"Fuck him," Eric replied.

"Dave, where are you from?" Patch asked. He looked down at her slightly annoyed but decided to play along. "New York City, around the West Side of the Bronx."

"Me too," Eric nodded taking a swig from the bottle.

"You guys knew each other?"

"We used to work together," Dave replied.

"How did you guys catch up?"

"We were shipped off to the same base and kind of stuck together when we crashed into each other."

"That place was a hell hole, remember that?"

"Yeah, they had one toilet for ten people, and we had to share tents with sick folks, and kids. I couldn't even sleep most of the time."

"The only way we got out was by agreeing to sign up and play GI Joe."

They all began laughing.

"Who did you lose?"

"Next Question," Dave replied chuckling.

"I'll tell you," Eric boasted, "I lost my wife, my son, my mom, and my sister. She hung herself when it all went down and my mom found her dangling and trying to grab at her. She shot her and then herself. She was smarter." He chuckled, and the others didn't particularly follow along.

"Why are you joking about that?" A soldier asked.

"What else can you do, nigga? All you can do is laugh at it. I didn't get there in time. My wife was in Denmark, thankfully. I never heard from her again." He turned raising the volume to the radio.

"Hey Dave, do that trick!" Roman pleaded.

"No, no," he nodded, they all jumped on him cheering him on, "No, no! I'm not doing that stupid trick."

"What trick?" Patch asked.

KC walked over forcing a smile.

"Hey, Little big tits," Eric joked.

They all chortled as she punched at him playfully, "Shut the fuck up."

"That blue shirt looks very tight on you," he smiled.

"Save the molestation for Dave," she joked.

"What trick?" Patch asked stomping her foot.

"Will you put down that stupid camera, first?" Dave asked.

She grunted closing it up and stuffed it in her bag. "Oh, shit, I hope I'm not too drunk." He chuckled and forced his laughs down wiping his face with his hands. "Okay, okay, only once." They cheered. KC tossed him the large knife and he caught it with the blade down. Eric wooted clapping his hands. He held the knife up by the handle and flipped it holding it on the top of his hand, he flipped it over down to his palm and back again, and rolled it over his backhand and down onto his hand. He jerked his hand up and shot the knife in to the tarp pinning it against the wall. They hooted laughing and clapping. Dave bowed repeatedly as they patted his back, and Patch wooted standing on the table. "That was amazing!" Patch clapped.

"I told you," Roman laughed.

"My pap taught me that," Dave boasted, "These fuckers can't get enough of it."

"There's nothing but soldiers, here," Patch said talking to her camera, "It's mostly guys, but some girls, and I don't see anyone here inviting survivors. I'm really the only one here without a dog tag. This is a secret place, but if you find this tape someday, just look for the hook." She glanced back covering the view finder. Dave sat beside her and whispered into her ear. She cringed groaning in disgust. "What are you doing?" KC asked walking over to them. "Nothing, KC," he said meekly.

"Patch, what did he say?"

"Nothing," she replied.

"Patch?"

"Fine," she sighed embarrassed, "He said you have a nice ass." Dave broke into hysterical laughter, and KC began smacking at him with her bandana. "Alright, alright, but it's true!" he laughed running off.

"Why don't you go make a circle jerk with your buddy?!" she shouted.

"He's busy fucking one of the commanding officers," he laughed slipping his hat on, "I think her name is Rhonda something, Rhoda something."


	5. No Quarter: Chapter Five

"Look at that," Patch said over her camcorder, "She's riding the carriage." She zoomed in on the corpse of a small girl looking up into the sun with eyes as white as pearls, and the lower portion of her jaw protruding over a large patch of torn chewed skin, and her tattered hair jabbing out over her torn sections of her skull. The scene was even more horrific even months after catching it on her viewfinder. Her clothes were untarnished, only slightly dirty, but her entire face had been chewed by someone. The rest of her body was normal, except for scuff marks on her knees. And she staggered around in circles with her toy carriage in tow. She could do nothing but watch from the back of the van she rode in with KC and Knock Knock on a gas run they'd made while perched on a small hill that was a temporary hide out for them. They hadn't drawn notice to the sight, in their attempts to make a quick grab, and oddly enough the little girl—or the once little girl—only drew a slight notice their way and continued walking slowly in circles with the pink toy carriage clutched in both hands, and her feet, still in black Easter shoes, clicking along the pavement.

She closed the viewfinder shutting down the camcorder, and brushed her hair back behind her ears. She saw KC sitting in a cot in the corner as the partying commenced in the distance. Their group of Marauders was almost like their own plague on the camp, as the order and business now dissolved into drinking and recklessness. She didn't like what she'd heard, and she kept her materials in short reach for what was sure to be a temporary hold up. "They're making nose," Patch whispered.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"That will attract the dead."

"We're fine," KC grumbled.

"Are you sure?"

"I can't stop everyone from talking and laughing, Patch, and neither can you. If you don't like it, then leave."

"What got up your ass?" Patch snapped.

"Why don't you go take a walk or something?" She sighed lying down and turning to her side, "I'm not in the mood for your shit right now."

"Fine," she huffed and stormed off, "Bitch."

"Cunt."

Calvin stood by the group of soldiers sipping at a glass of water and watching them banter about among each other. She held her camcorder out in front of her and began to tape noticing Calvin's expression. Grunts emerged in the distance as Eric ravaged a woman who lay on her back with her breasts writhing. The bunk was dark even in the midst of a sunny day beaming down on to them.

She groaned clutching his back as he pumped on her exhaustively and abruptly stopped dropping onto his back. She panted wiping her face, and sighed brushing her hair with both hands. "A little tense?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You fucked like you were pressed for time."

"I have a schedule to keep."

"Apparently," she groaned lying on her side.

"Don't kid yourself. A few months out there and you didn't make much of an argument to get back here."

"You didn't seem to complain when I was sucking your cock."

"Well, you take what you can get."

He sighed sitting up and began slipping his pants on and looked back at her.

"Where are you headed off to?"

He furrowed his brows looking back at her.

"Oh right. You have a schedule to keep."

"Why don't you stand up and do a dance?"

She giggled.

"Stand up and do a dance."

She furrowed her brows, "You're serious?"

"Come on, man, I've been out there for a while. Indulge me."

"Fuck you, Eric."

"Do a dance."

She tisked tossing her four year old magazine into the corner. He scoffed looking up at her. "Turn your back to the door." She furrowed her brows and stepped to the side preparing to dance. She flew to the floor crying out and groaned aloud. "My back…!" she grunted holding her lower back. "Do I get second licks or what?" Dave asked walking over to her. "Don't be too rough, nigga, she'll bitch to someone." She whimpered attempting to fight him off, and he mounted her grabbing her head and smacking it against the floor. She went limp panting in a daze and turned her head woozily, her eyes glazed over. "Just shut the fuck up, and take it," Dave said unzipping his pants, "You better not tell anyone." Eric nodded unaffected, "Make it quick, she's a greasy bitch." He took his shirt and stood guard by the doorway.

"They're cutting trees to build glass, is what I'm saying. All that shit with the biohazard soldiers, and the safe havens, it's all doing diddly to bring it back from the point of no return," Roman explained.

"You just called it the point of no return, though," Knock Knock replied.

"Well, I think we can possibly bring it back to some point of return, if we at least tried to colonize or something. And we'll have to monitor people. God forbid we have a safe haven, and someone dies of a heart attack. Then we're all fucked."

"It's pointless, then," Crunch replied, "Someone dies of a heart attack, gets loose, bites someone and it starts all over again, there's no point of return." Patch stood in front of them with her camera focused and still.

"Jesus," Knock Knock huffed smacking the radio off.

"Easy, that's one of the few radios we have," a soldier said snatching it.

"I hate that fucking song. How can a song like "In A Gadda Da Vida" go on for twenty minutes and feel like an hour?" He took a swig from a flask. Patch chuckled.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" Crunch groaned.

"I'm just standing here."

"Leave her alone," Roman scoffed.

"She's getting on my nerves."

"Patch," KC called standing by her tent, "Come on over here." She pouted and walked over closing her camera. "I told you to stay away from him."

"I was just filming their conversation for the movie."

"He's dangerous, I told you that a thousand times, okay?"

"Alright," she shrugged sitting down in front of the tent.

"I'm sorry for the argument," KC muttered.

"It's okay, I'm sorry, too. I can't at least explore?"

"Fine, explore, but stay away from Crunch, please? For me?"

"Alright," she sighed slumping her shoulders. She stood up and walked off into an opposite direction from Crunch, who sat sneering at her. A decrepit corpse of a man stumbled onto the chain link fence and growled smacking his hand against it observing the green tarps covering all sense of humans inside. The smells of sweat and cologne though gave it away.

The sergeant walked across the camp to KC who gasped and approached him bravely. He stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, "No, not now, please."

"KC, you don't decide this, sadly," he replied.

"If you have to dispatch of Roman, at least wait until she's alone, it's not fair."

"What is?"

She stood silent.

"KC, something tells me that the meeting we had this morning was completely false. Now I'm relying on you to be truthful with me. Should we be having a meeting face to face where I can hear the entire truth about what went on in that shit hole?" She stood silent and looked over at Calvin who observed their contact. "No sir…"

"Excuse me?"

"No sir," she said louder.

"We're headed to Fiddler's Green in a few days and we need some more of the platoon to follow. After this last mission, you and yours are candidates to come join us."

"And what happens to Roman?"

"She stays at the camps."

"Sir, those are horrible places for survivors--"

"--Then spit it out, if you have something to say--!"

"—Sir…"

"I'm getting tired of pressing you it's your last chance, _Katherine Charlie_."

There was a long moment of silence, and he nodded walking past her.

"God damn it," she said under her breath, "God damn it!"

Eric gave a cough standing by the door and looked over his shoulder. Dave walked out panting and wiped his forehead. He slipped his black cap on again and fixed his ponytail, "Thirty minutes, really?"

"Fuck you, just because it takes only ten for you--"

"—Hey, I was in there for four hours, bitch--"

"—So, what you were talking for three hours and fifty minutes?"

They laughed, and Eric looked into the tent at Rhodes who was on her stomach unconscious. "You didn't get too rough?"

"Nah. There was some punching, but she's alive. And ten times happier."

"She was my last choice to fuck but…"

"Who would you fuck if you could?"

"Natalie Portman."

"Alive or Dead?"

"Either one," Eric shrugged, "But if I turned by putting my dick in her, then maybe not." Patch stood by the fence hearing the growls and turned back in a panic watching the group of partying soldiers in the distance. "The dead are always near," she whispered into the camera, filming the distant growling, "No matter where you go, they're always there, listening for us…. And waiting. I wonder if they'll break in." KC whistled and signaled her. She stomped her feet and walked over to her.

"Milla Jovovovich."

"It's Jovovich."

"Well, whatever, if she were still alive, I'd fuck that."

"I like my women with tits, and without a twelve year old boy's body, I'm just saying." Dave chuckled rolling his eyes.

"What about Roman?"

"She's a bull dyke," Dave smirked.

Eric laughed clapping his hands.

"No seriously, I think she'd fuck me with HER dick or something."

"You'd be crying."

He giggled nodding.

"What about KC?"

"Hells yes," he nodded.

"I'm gonna get that soon, watch," he promised.

"Save some of Pocahontas for me," Dave asked.

"Look at that," Eric nodded sighing, "She's freaking hot."

"Lorna," Dave pointed out a skinny African American woman walking past them.

"That's old news."

"Kathy?" A young hispanic girl ran past them.

"I will break her," he scoffed.

"You can have second helpings," Dave gloated.

"That's a switch," he declared. Dave nudged at him.

Eric looked off in the distance and grew a grin.

"What?" Dave asked confused.

"Patch?"

"What about her?"

"Would you?"

He thought for a moment and considered it.

"Yeah--"

"—What?!"

"What?"

"Awww," he laughed.

"Oh come on, don't lie, asshole. She has to lose it sooner or later," Dave replied, "What about you?"

"She's asking for it, that's for sure. It gets boring around here."

"Nah, forget it, KC would get mad," Dave tisked.

"What about when she's sleeping?"

Dave giggled nodding.

"Stay here," KC muttered observing the sight.

"What? Why?" Patch asked.

"Just stay in front of the tent, for the love of god."

"Alright," she said rolling her eyes. Roman stood up curious and brushed her hair back. KC stood at a distance watching near tears. Calvin stepped near her and watched silently. Roman nodded with a smile at her superior officers and looked back at the group of soldiers listening in. "No, no," she muttered indistinctly, "I didn't…!" Her curious grimace turned into an angered furrowing of her brows, and she became defensive stepping forward, "I didn't!" Her mouth widened and she looked over at Calvin, "That's bullshit!" The group stepped back.

"I didn't try to drive off!" she yelled, "I stood on guard picking off those fucks and waited for them to come out!" The sergeant and his two officers continued talking under their breaths, "Sergeant, you gotta believe me, I would never--!" They interrupted her and continued explaining. "You can't, no!" she smacked the table, "I have a heart condition, you can't send me to those camps!" She flipped the table over screaming, "No, you can't! I need to live! Calvin!" She turned to him and suddenly they grabbed her by her arms, "Calvin!" she screeched struggling in tears, "You have to tell them the truth! You have to tell them the fucking truth!" She howled struggling as two more held her down, "Calvin, you're lying! You fucking liar, I'll kill you!" KC nodded wiping her tears. "You can't send me off to that camp!" she struggled as they began carrying her off. Patch filmed from a distance. "Sergeant, have mercy, please!"

"You're happy now?" KC asked with gritted teeth.

"It wasn't easy," Calvin replied.

"The fuck it wasn't. Flapping lips and you sold her down the river."

"Shut up, KC."

"KC, please!" she screamed fighting.

"I'm sorry!" KC replied walking after them. She broke free fighting them off and swiped at an officer jabbing him in the throat with a knife and made a run for it. "Roman, stop!" KC screamed running after her. The sergeant took a shot bringing Roman to the ground as the soldiers swarmed from the chaos, and she shivered holding her stomach. KC dropped beside her and held her up, "He was lying!" Roman whimpered. KC nodded silently and stood up stepping back.

"He's getting up!" A guard yelled as the choking soldier rose from the ground. The sergeant shot him to the ground. His body fell in an instant. And he turned walking over to Roman. Roman coughed lying flat on her back and looked up at the sergeant.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked disappointed.

"I'd rather die than be sent back to those camps!" she grunted.

"Medics!" he yelled kneeling over her.

"KC," she shivered looking up at her.

"Yeah?" she whimpered.

"Give me your gun… please?"

"Roman…"

"They're sending me away… you know what those camps are like…!" There was a moment of silence. She tore her gun from her holster and handed it to her. Roman quickly gripped it, shoved it in her mouth and blasted her brains out.

There was a heavy silence that cut through the air, and KC fell back gripping her head. "God damn it," The sergeant tisked standing up. He halted the medics and stomped off. She took the gun away from her hand and holstered it. The medics set the stretcher down beside her and began slipping her on to the bed. "Jesus Christ," Patch whispered filming relentlessly. "Are you happy now?" KC asked walking past Calvin. "She did that to herself, KC," Calvin sighed, "She was weak."

"Yeah, I want to see you get towed to the camps."

"It's never going to happen."

"Don't hold your breath."


	6. No Quarter: Chapter Six

"What are you doing?"

"You wanna talk about it?"

KC nodded and tore her bandana away from her head.

"You can talk to me."

"I want to talk to you, not you're camera." She shoved it away turning her back to her. "I'm sorry about Roman."

KC nodded.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I should have spoken up. I should have… who am I kidding? It's pointless now. We have to get out of here and back on the field."

"You actually want to do that?"

"It's crazier when we have nothing to do than when we're out there," KC replied, "It's sick, isn't it?" Patch scoffed and laid back on her bed sighing.

"This is all fucked," KC said chuckling, "The safe camps are hellholes, and when we're all settled in is when we become these… animals."

"I don't see a difference."

"You lived in a vent for a few months, what would you know?" KC scoffed.

"Again, I don't see a difference."

"I wish I was like you," she sighed, "So unaffected and blasé."

"Yeah, and I'm only twelve," she replied, "I'm so lucky."

"Alright, I didn't offense by that."

"I didn't choose to be like this, you know."

KC nodded, "I think you're a great girl, okay? You're not like… those things outside the fences. You have emotions and a soul."

"Those camps are that bad?"

"Even worse," KC replied nodding with an expression of doom, "You're lucky you stayed with us. The establishing safe havens are picking things up, but only because people are working outside the military structure. These government yokels ain't got shit to help us with. This is us for the rest our lives, fighting and snuffing out these monsters."

Patch nodded biting her bottom lip, "How do you know about that?"

"We visited a few of those safe havens, and they weren't welcoming to us. One of them overthrew the soldiers and made their own rules, even. We got into a scuffle with them on the way to deliver a survivor to them." Patch looked up closing her eyes. KC followed her act and settled in lying along the bed closing her eyes. All she could see was Roman blowing her brains out again and again.

"If they decide to send me to the camps… I want you to kill me."

There was a long silence.

"I promise," KC replied.

Patch turned over resting her head on her arm and drifted off.

She panted heavily, her breath kicking up a storm of dust and mold that would surely drift into her lungs if she wasn't careful. She covered her face with her black vest and looked left. She looked right, and wiped her forehead. They couldn't get up there, she knew it, but… she was still paranoid of the darkness every time she crawled into a corner. She also worried about a vent suddenly breaking from under her dropping her into a dog pile of the dead, but it was a risk she took. "Jesus…" she panted giving a slightly frustrated whimper and settled in leaning her head back. From every direction the growls and howls of the children echoed and it was almost too much to bear. The sounds of their rattling carried along the wind every half hour or so, as if there was a disturbance in their herd.

It was day forty-six inside that stupid vent, and she could only look forward. She smacked the side of her head trying to focus. She had to think about then and there, but all she could wonder was how long she'd be there, how long would it be before the food ran out, and where could she run if she was able to escape the orphanage? Most importantly, how long would it be before she grew too big to crawl around the air vents? She kicked a little sitting back, and the growls emerged again, being carried along the breeze that blew through the ducts. The smell was still ripe. It was blood, and guts, and rotting flesh and humidity. It was the bodies of all the people she once knew rotting every minute of every day, and she knew them better now than she did before.

As an orphan, she was what the nuns tagged as the anti-social liability, the child who disproved their methods by their incapability to socialize with everyone else. And when the outbreak of the infection gradually spread along the massive orphanage, she fled before it could get her. Children were being carried off into the infirmary every night with bites, and before long they'd died and risen to attack the others. Maulings occurred daily, and before long there were more than a dozen of the walking dead barely over the age of eleven who were shambling around, their mouths covered in blood and they were forced into the basement to stay with the others. They were never escorted, always kicked into the darkness and the growls would emerge.

It wasn't long until every time the door opened little hands would burst from the darkness to reach at the unlucky soul standing at the gates of hell, and they'd be sucked in. Two nuns suffered the wrath of the walking dead, barely given a chance to fight back, and they always went down the same way: Screaming god's name, and begging for mercy from them, only to be turned inside out as a feast for the living dead. She hated them for it. They weren't looked on as a plague or bane on the society within the walls, they were considered miracles. The high priest sat and watched as a child's heart stopped, only for the eyes to open and body to rise and he allowed the child to attack him. He held the child screaming in tongues and praying to the almighty god as the child grabbed at him and growled clamping its teeth like a hungry dog.

Eventually they'd restrain the child, and exorcisms were introduced with no avail. Soon the miracles were now the devil's machinations brought down on the walls of the holy orphanage. She begged for them to call authorities, she pleaded for them to keep them locked up and attempted to talk sense into them. During the nights, she'd be whipped and punished, and eventually the numbers of children and staff members dwindled. The basement was a giant trap for anyone who dared to linger near it, and before anyone could consider approaching it, the thumps of small fists pounding on the doors were heard. The exorcisms were soon nothing but excuses to strap the children down and they'd be hauled into the basements. They were dropped into the steps with violent thumps. Patch watched almost every day as the small squirming bodies were hurled into the darkness followed by horrific crashes and the gasps of the nuns who'd witness the mangled body rise again and make its way for the steps.

Prayers were held for them every Sunday, and then… it began. Patch took to the air vents almost immediately, storing food and water and never told a soul. A couple of children escaped. The rest—some nearing two hundred—were engulfed under the claws and teeth of the living dead. Nuns rose from the darkness with half eaten bodies, and they made their stand fighting them off, but the fear came into play paralyzing and weakening any defense they attempted build. And they all soon fell eaten alive and devoured while Patch sat and watched from the vents. She should have alerted them about her presence, she should have helped, but… she could only afford her. She couldn't rely on anyone, nor could she really have anyone rely on them. She covered her mouth with both hands whimpering while she heard the ear piercing screams of the girls in her dorm while they were pinned down on their beds and torn from their stomachs. She watched them dig into one with their small hands, first her cheeks and eyes ripped apart from the seams as she still cried out, while they all gathered to feast on her arms and bare legs.

Hours later as they moved on, she rose with black gaping holes where her eyes once were, and she followed after them, staggering and gurgling blood from the gap where her jaw was torn from its joints. Barely seven years old. Patch slept in the vents and kept a healthy distance, only emerging every so often to close off a room to gain some sense of clarity to what was happening. How did it all begin? How did the first two children get bitten? And by whom? It didn't seem important anymore, but she focused so heavily. Every morning she stood by the window of the closet and hoped for someone to come along and rescue her. She lifted the window and waved sheets in the air, and in her most desperate moments screamed out for help. Did the world know what was happening behind the gates of the orphanage? Did anyone even notice this?

"Patch," KC exclaimed. She awoke with a gasp and sat up turning to her in a daze, "What?!" She stood by the open ten looking out onto the quiet base, "Are you okay?" Patch shrugged, "I don't know… thanks for waking me up."

"You've been asleep for hours. I got a hold of some food for you." She slid a plate next to her on the bed.

"Thanks," she said setting the plate on her lap.

"You were talking a lot," KC explained biting into an apple, "In your sleep, I mean." Patch nodded silently.

"You want to tell me what it meant?"

"Not particularly," she replied rubbing her eyes, "What's going on around here?"

"It's been really quiet. I'm kind of uneasy about it. Quiet is never good."

"How long has it been like that?" she asked.

"Four hours."

"We also saw some trucks driving around the area, we thought it was a convoy," Knock Knock explained standing beside her, "They saw it on the horizon by the tracks."

"Do you think they found the base?"

"It crossed my mind," he explained, "But either way, I wouldn't get too comfortable. The sergeant is sending out teams to look for intruders. When that happens it means it's time to go, soon." KC nodded pursing her lips. "You better start packing," he nodded and walked off. KC tossed the finished apple and walked back into the tent zipping the folds up.

"I heard him," Patch whispered.

"Sorry."

Patch shrugged.

"You're heavy, eh?"

She nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"You're busy."

"I'm not busy enough where I can't talk."

"I had a dream again."

"About the orphanage?"

Patch nodded, "It's like I was there. The dreams are so… powerful, y'know? They get so vivid I can still smell the humidity."

"I get that way too, sometimes. I have nightmares where I'm still at the Bungalow with my sister. I can still hear her crying and watching as that wave of the walking dead just brushed through the fields. I can still see them and still feel myself wondering what the hell to do. Imagine, it's only you and your sister, and you have to barricade the doors, find tools, calm her down and get her to focus all while they're getting closer. It was too much to bear." Patch looked over to her. "You never told me that much, before."

"I figured since we're opening up…," she shrugged growing a smirk, "And you never know when it will be too late."

"How did she die?"

"It was that fucking dog of hers."

Patch furrowed her brows, "Her dog?"

"Yeah," she sighed wiping her forehead, "That stupid dog of hers was left outside, and the entire time the dead were banging at the doors, she could hear the dog barking. I told her to leave it out there, but she only worried about it. It was two days and they didn't even hurt it, but she was too stupid to care about me or even herself."

"What happened to the dog?"

KC chuckled, "It got away. It chewed that leash off, and ran away. She broke down all the barricading and tried to break her way into the crowds." She sighed, "And… they… devoured her. All for a selfish little mutt. That little shit took bites at everyone and always tried to get into my room to take a shit." Patch chortled covering her mouth.

"You can laugh," KC chuckled.

Patch giggled and leaned her head back.

"But it's fact._ I'd_ have killed that thing if she was with us, in all honesty."

"How did you even get away?"

"Well, it involved a lot of climbing, a lot of crawling, and a good amount of footwork. Thank god for my running experience."

KC knelt down and began packing. Patch crawled over and slid her bag onto the bed, and raised her brows noticing it was still fully packed. Gunfire rang out in the darkness and they both jumped to their feet running out of the tent as the guards in the watch towers shot behind the fences shining their lights down on to shambling figures approaching the base. "What's going on?!" KC asked.

"The dead found us!" Knock Knock ran by.

"We always get them, what's the big deal?" Patch asked.

"Get your stuff and run for the truck," KC grabbed her rifle and ran after the crowds. "Hold the line and fire into the crowds!" the sergeant yelled, "Take down as many of them as necessary until the glut is reduced!" KC jumped up on to the railing with the other soldiers and fired into the fields. The growls emerged like a tidal wave as the bobbing heads of dozens of the dead crept up to the gates slamming their rotted hands against the fences and reaching for them.

The collective fire rose as every soldier on the base gathered to fend off the undead, standing elbow to elbow and firing with rapidly. The gunfire was dealt with strategic precision as they had to shoot into the crowds and garner head shots. Body shots were pointless, and at that point, barely slowed them down. "Where are they coming from?!" Crunch yelled firing.

"Something gave us away," KC said blasting into the darkness.

The voices of superiors cut through the gunfire,

"Activate the detonators!"

"Copy, preparing to active detonators!"

"Setting off detonators!"

There were a chain of blue explosions that were set off from left to right like a light show, and bodies launched into the air plopping to the ground. Bits of bodies made their way along the line and the crew ducked feeling the black blood and guts sprinkle among their hair and shoulders.

They brushed the bits off, and Patch stood by the truck filming in the distance with the night vision filter on and panted in anticipation. She felt looked down to the floor and gasped zooming in on a hand settled into the grass and knelt down beside it. "Shit…" she scoffed and then panned up to see them firing off into the night.

"We've been here for two months without any interference, and we're way into the boondocks hiding behind a major reservoir that has no capability of providing mobility to any of these fucking things. If by some act of god these things made it through all of these obstacles, how in the hell would they find us?"

"The noise? The… the smell?" KC posed.

"How is that even possible?" The sergeant asked.

"We give off a specific smell," KC explained, "These things are able to do a lot of things we're not yet aware of, sir."

"Patch saw it," Knock Knock replied.

"Patch?"

"Yeah," he replied, crossing his arms, "She has video of that type of shit. They can smell us. I don't know if it's the sweat, or the saliva, or… the soap we use, or what. But they can smell us, and it may be why they can find us even when they don't have eyes." The sergeant sat among the entire base as dawn rose along the horizon. After four hours of firing, the group gathered. Patch sat along with them. "That's improbable."

"Sir, we don't even know if this infection can be reversed," Calvin explained.

"It can't be," KC said annoyed.

Eric scoffed covering his mouth.

"I'm just saying, we don't know all about them, yet."

"It's possible the smell got to them. Or it's possible the convoy we saw before called attention to them, thus drawing attention to us. Whoever spotted us, brought a wave of those things with us, too. If there's one, there's a thousand," Crunch declared.

"So we may have citizen reconnaissance?" Dave asked.

"It's very possible. How long has it been since this started?"

"Almost eighty five days," Patch replied.

"Right, and since then it's entirely possible that there are groups out there organizing and sizing up possible safe havens," he continued, "The further we get into this situation, the more the attacks will come and sooner or later… we're going to get pulses with enough firepower to bring us down. Hell, as of now, there are probably more people with ten times the arms we possess as we speak."

"So what do you suggest?" KC asked.

"We can either hold this ground and re-enforce it, or… move on and split up the base into different sectors."

"They'd never allow it," the sergeant.

"There's gonna come a time where there won't be a "they," sir," Crunch braved the argument, "This doesn't seem like a temporary thing, anymore." Patch nodded. "She saw a lot," KC said referring to Patch, "She spent weeks and weeks with dozens of them right under her. She probably knows more about them than either of us."

"I think it's better if we don't refer children to these important decisions," the sergeant groaned leaning back. "Prick," Patch mumbled.

"Get out," Calvin ordered standing by the door.

Patch stood up and stormed off.

"Apologies, sir," Calvin replied.

"We have bigger things to worry about," he explained, "There's been talk of establishing a military sanctioned safe haven, or perhaps going to Fiddler's Green."

"Is that another camp?" asked Dave.

"No, it's actually a safe haven, from what I've heard. I've been invited, as have others in this base." KC bit her nails and nodded, "It sounds sketchy, sir."

"How is that, Katherine?"

"KC," she corrected boldly, "Democracy has failed, who knows what the hell rules we'll have to abide by."

"Democracy," Calvin quipped.

"Based on what?" KC scoffed.

"We'll be there."

"Oh that makes plenty of sense," Dave replied.

"Who asked you?"

"I just think she's right," Dave declared, "If we go into a private safe haven, there's any number of ways it could go, there."

"Well, I think it's a risk worth taking," the sergeant replied, "Because with any of these places, there's always the risk of change. But we have to be accepting, and go with the show, or else we're out on our asses like every other low life out there, now."

"Low life?" KC furrowed her brows, "Who are _they_?"

"Anyone who isn't us," Calvin replied.

KC, Eric, and Dave collectively shook their heads. They were once the "low lives," and they could barely stifle their reaction from the increasingly grating Calvin. "Looking to get a spot at Fiddler's Green, eh?" Eric chortled.

"You can leave now," Calvin ordered.

He groaned stood up and stormed past him sneering at him on the way out.

"They're dropping like flies," Knock Knock mumbled annoyed.

KC stood up and turned walking to the door.

"Where are you going, Katherine?" the sergeant asked.

"I'm kicking _myself_ out for what I'm about to do in the next few minutes, sir."


	7. No Quarter: Chapter Seven

KC sped up mumbling swears to herself and met Eric who nodded his head with a smirk, "What a cocksucker, eh?"

"I'm glad you noticed, too," KC replied.

"I think if we weren't there he'd have given the sarge a blowjob."

"He'll do anything to protect his skin, he knows who's running the show, and he doesn't want to be hauled off like Roman."

"You know something we don't?"

"I know plenty, but nothing I'm willing to dish."

"What's Fiddler's Green?"

"I don't know, some place run by some big corporate stooge from the looks of it. I hear tell some weird things going down out there."

"I'd be willing to go look for it and stay there."

"For what? You'd be lugged around to do dirty business like here. At least here there's some sense of job security, you know?"

"If all they were saying was true… maybe finding a place to drop down on and stay won't be so bad."

KC shrugged.

"You really think they're right? It's all over, isn't it?"

"After last night I'm compelled to say yes. Right now, I'm pushing for yes. Why else would Calvin stick to the sarge like a slug if he didn't want to go along with the top brass and ensure some safety for himself?"

"I should have been running this unit, not that dickless prick."

"I think we all know who keeps it tight, KC," Eric assured her, "You don't have to worry about that." She nodded pursing her lips and sighed walking back to the tent. "You want to go talk?" he asked. She closed the tent on him and dropped down on her cot. Shots rang out and instantly a slew of gunfire rang out cutting through the air. "Fire at the civilians, fire at the civilians!" The soldiers lined up drawing and the sergeant rushed out with a scowl, "Fire at the civilians, and shoot to kill!" A wave of screams and roars burst from the East quarter of the camp as hands clutched on to the gates. The running and screaming survivors were jumping onto the chain linked fences in a storm of panic and havoc. The faces of the white, black, and brown plastered the walls of the fence, and people screamed smacking the links and climbing as the platoon stood watching. The shadows zipped up bobbing along the fences and the screams and protests of many were heard. Cries of children could also be heard among the howls and screams of the living. They stood in a line and kept their fingers tucked on to the trigger waiting.

"Report!" KC yelled.

"Survivors are storming the gates, sir!" Knock Knock yelled.

"Who the fuck gave us away?!"

"What do we do, KC?" Eric asked.

"Don't worry about that now!" Calvin said, "Get on the line and fire on sergeant's command! That's an order!" She huffed and turned running to fetch her rifle. Patch stood along with the soldiers and knelt down filming the dashing shadows behind the blue tarps along the fences. "The survivors found us, it seems. From what we've been told over the past few nights, there have been some mobs and scavengers looking around and lurking near the camps. It was only a matter of time until the "commoners" were on to us. I wonder if they caught on to the symbols Calvin talked about to Roman. If everyone knows about the symbols, the odds are every camp in the world is getting this swarm of survivors."

She ran behind the groups of soldiers, lugged the camera strapped around her shoulder with it still firmly on REC, and climbed the top of the water tower hearing the roars of the survivors that cut through the silence like a knife. They were cries to fear, they were cries to horrify, and they were cries to pity. Words from many like "Please," "Open," and "For God Sake," drifted over the screams and slamming fists against the rusted metal. Patch found herself halfway up the steel ladder, and turned her body holding the camera up. She found a spot above the fences and watched as the figures of the living buzzed like ants along every inch of fence that surrounded the base. Now sounding like a stadium, the soldiers stood still and uncertain to their next cause of action. "If any one of those sub-human fuckers gets behind the fence, you shoot them dead!" Calvin screamed.

"They're alive, asshole!" KC replied with gritted teeth.

"I hear children!" Dave replied.

"You can't ask us to--!"

"--On sergeant's command!"

"Request permission to tell Calvin to shut the fuck up and let the sergeant talk!" Crunch barked, "Sir, there are children and women behind those fences, we can't possibly fire on them, it would be immoral!"

"Right now the only thing you got to worry about is what they're bringing with them, Crunch!" the sergeant replied, "I'm not worried about the survivors, but where ever there's pulses, there are the dead heads, you got me?! So, on the basis of spreading the infection, I order _**each and every one of you stupid fucks to fire **_if those fences go down, do you understand?!"

There was a short silence.

"Yes sir!" They responded in unison.

"Calvin, get the fuck on the line," the sergeant grumbled.

"Sir?"

"Get on the line!"

He huffed and rushed past them clutching his machine gun in both hands.

"Oh fuck…" Patch whispered with a gasp capturing a sight on her screen, "Oh fuck…" She looked down and saw the rising horde of shadows and figures staggering in the fields. About sixty to seventy strong of mangled, mutilated corpses were following in order with the survivors, and they were foaming to get to them. The frantic screams were too loud for anyone to see the specter of death coming slowly to them. The trucks following survivors revved up and quickly tore through the crowds, as another large semi tipped over to its side kicking up a huge wind of dust. The scattering crowds from in the truck, paired with the large crowds of the dead gave way to an orgy of blood and carnage.

"They're there!!" Patch screamed to them, "KC, they're coming!! The dead are coming!!" The sergeant ran to the ladder, "How many?"

"What?" she asked trying to scream over the chaos.

"How many are there?!" he screamed loudly.

She looked into her viewfinder and began counting to herself as the figures became more distinct, detailed, and menacing with every passing minute. None of the folks from the semi made it past the crowds of the walking dead.

"Eighty or ninety, sergeant!!" she screamed, "They're moving fast!!"

"Get down from the ladder and into the truck! She said almost a hundred, so as of now every one of those pulses are considered as dangerous as the dead! Begin firing!"

"God damn it!" Knock Knock grunted running to the fence and set off the detonators. Explosions popped from all sides on the second line and the screams for help now became screams of pain as the path cut through the bodies. The firing warbled through the air as the shadows behind the fences went down and the almost endless mobs of the walking dead descended into the living. The cries were heard as the feeding began and the firing continued with merciless frequency. Patch cringed covering her ears and ran into the truck crouching down with her ears covered. Explosions burst through the fields, and then more firing. The mad panic became deafening and much to their horror, the fences stalled bobbing back and forth finally tumbling over. The wave of bodies, both dead and alive cracked the seams piling down in front of them and the line stepped back firing into the crowds.

Children were chased into tents by the growling corpses, and they hesitated panting. "Sir?!" KC screamed.

"Pack and stack the trucks, meet in HQ!"

"Where the fuck is HQ?!" Dave screamed.

"Retreat into the trucks! NOW!" KC screamed and they turned tail running along the lines of automobiles. Soldiers were tackled to the ground by feeders who bit into them as the cries burst in back of KC and Knock Knock. "KC?" Knock Knock asked with a horrified quiver. "In the trucks! In the trucks!" The heads slid into the truck tumbling over Patch who screamed in pain and she tucked her body under the benches as many of the men squeezed into the back. KC jumped onto the driver's seat kicking a survivor from her grip and fired with her semi-automatic dropping four in the head. She turned seeing Calvin in the passenger seat and shot furiously.

She turned to the back, "Knock Knock, grenade!"

A grenade flew from the darkness, she caught it, turned, pulled the pin and chucked it into the crowds. She slipped into the driver's seat and locked the doors feeling the thundering of the hands smacking along the sides of the truck, those of the living who pleaded behind the metal to be taken along. "Drive! Drive!" Calvin grunted. Calvin fought off stowaways attempting to come aboard and kept his door tightly shut holding it from inside and watched as KC kicked the gas with a shriek and blasted through the thumps of bodies being crushed under the large wheels of the truck. "We're hitting more survivors than dead heads, fuck!" She yelled smacking the wheel.

"Focus, damn it!" Calvin yelled.

"Out of the way, out of the way," she mumbled smacking into bodies. The survivors formed a barricade in front of them and KC hesitated waving them to move.

"Out of the way!" she screamed standing up in her seat.

"Take us with you!" A woman pleaded running to the hood.

"There's no room for you!" Calvin replied. The group fired from the opening in the back of the truck, firing off and popping whatever was moving. Children ran behind them reaching out and crying as KC sped up and stomped down onto the human barricade watching their heads disappear under the beams. "God damn it," Eric quivered hearing the howls of pain under the truck pass through and inevitably away from them into the fields. A woman jumped onto the back pleading in Spanish, and Crunch kicked her off the back knocking her into the ground four feet below. Her body fell with a thump and she lay still. "God damn it, man!"

"We can't have anyone else!" Crunch replied.

They could still see the children running after them, their face dripping with tears. Only they and two more out of the seven military trucks made it out from the base and swerved off into different directions. "What do we do?"

Dave slid over to the back of the truck and looked back at the kids, "Come on, catch up," he whispered with a plead, "Catch up." They were all old enough to in grade school. The kids kept running after them with their hands out, and one after the other eventually gave up. Twelve ran after for a long time, eight eventually, and then six, and then the crowd dwindled to three who were quickly running out of steam. "Come on, come on…" Dave pleaded with a heavy chest, as the screams faded and the tracks overlapped the boundaries as only two stumbled after. "Stop the car," Eric pleaded.

"No, keep going," Crunch told KC.

"For the love of god, there are only two kids!" Eric pleaded.

"Stop the car!" Dave yelled.

"Keep going, they're gone," Crunch assured them.

Dave pounded the back door as the children stopped dropping to their knees and watched bawling as the truck disappeared into the warehouses. Dave stood up and sat back down on the bench. He looked over at Crunch, "You fuck--!" Eric clutched his arm, "Just let it go, man. Just let it go. Trust me." Dave huffed leaning his head back and stomped his foot. "Are we clear?" Calvin asked looking back.

"Yes," Knock Knock replied.

"Close call, this time," Calvin grumbled taking a deep sigh.

"Yeah, good running for your ass."

"Firing at a few stowaways doesn't make you tough."

"You noticed?" KC asked surprised, "I remember you being the first one to run off the line into the truck."

"Save it," Calvin warned, "We have bigger things to work on, right now. Got me?" KC scoffed rolling her eyes. "Something you want to say to me? Whatever it is, get it out right now so we can move past this."

"I would, but the smell of blood and intestines is making me gag, running over people isn't easy," KC remarked.

"I'm taking over the wheel on the next corner."

"The hell you are."

"You want to do this now?"

"I'll do this until one of us is down."

"That can be arranged," Calvin threatened. The sputtering of helicopters blasted above them and they looked up to see the four military copters flying off into the horizon.

"Fiddler's Green, here they come," Eric replied.

"Looks like you missed the boat," Dave smirked.

"We didn't. As long as we follow the direction they're flying in, we can…"

"What?" Knock Knock asked, "Be let in? You honestly think they'll let volunteers in? They didn't even tell us where Fiddler's Green is."

"Shut up, Knock Knock," Crunch sighed.

"Seriously, man. They told us it was there, but they didn't give us nothing. No coordinates, no names, no streets, nothing. They don't want us there."

Calvin turned in his seat and picked up the radio, "All units still moving, this is Captain Calvin Montalvo. We're rendezvousing at the old rice mill in Abernathy Park in 0-600 hours, that's directly fifteen miles East, all units that have survived the raid are asked to meet up to re-gather forces."

"And then what?!" Knock Knock barked.

"Shut-the-fuck-up!" Calvin said to him. He turned to the radio, "Meet up there and we'll discuss Fiddler's Green and where to regroup after. Form a convoy if necessary and stop only if _absolutely_ necessary. Over and out."

"Over and definitely fucking out," Dave replied.

"Enough," Calvin replied.

"And then what?" Knock Knock asked.

"Enough…"

"…KC?" he asked looking to her.

She shrugged silently.

"KC?" Eric asked.

"I'm busy, ask the Captain."

"What was she saying?" Patch whispered from under the bench. Her voice broke over the tension. The guys were shocked she was still with them, and forgot her in the panic. Knock Knock leaned over seeing her with a blank expression.

"Who?" Eric asked.

"The Spanish lady crying…," Patch held her arm taking a deep swallow, "What was she saying to Crunch before he kicked her?"

There was a long silence. Eric rubbed his eyes.

Dave pursed his lips, "She said: _'Have mercy, sir… my baby is dead…'_"

Four hours later everyone was slumped over on their benches side by side, and the cabin was surprisingly silent. Calvin leaned over the glass fast asleep. KC shook her head wildly and struggled to stay awake. She gasped as something tugged at her shoulder and Knock Knock stood over her, "Come on, go sleep, I'll drive."

"No, I'm okay."

"Come on," he insisted, "I slept already, and now it's your turn, Captain."

She sighed smiling and stood up staggering past him. She groaned sleepily, and he lightly held both sides of her waist. He held her for a moment and kissed her on the lips. "What was that?" she whispered surprised.

"I'm so sorry; we're all dying soon," he said blushing, "I just didn't want to die without knowing what your lips felt like." She looked away, "You're not mad…?"

She scoffed and nodded. "I know you always had a thing for me." She hugged him and walked past him, sitting on his spot as the truck sped across the gravel blasting past ware houses and abandoned roads. She settled in and closed her eyes. Patch gasped curling up. "Patch," KC said surprised.

"Hey."

"I'm very happy to see you."

"I was talking before."

"I was too focused on driving. I'm sorry."

"No worries."

"I'm so happy to see you," she whispered.

"Me too," she smiled sitting her camcorder on her lap.

"Why are you under there?"

"I'm hiding. And I'm uncomfortable."

"You're hurt," she noticed.

Patch nodded denying the obvious. She sighed kneeling down sliding over to her.

"How are you dealing with all of this…?"

Patch nodded, for once displaying a sense of pain and sadness. KC was startled and knelt down beside her. "You're hurt?"

"My elbow," she whispered, "When they piled in… I was crouching down… and…" She held her arm out and Patch flinched cringing. "It's okay," KC whispered, "It only looks like a bad bump. Just let it heal for a while, okay?" Patch nodded with a large frown. "If you want to cry, there's nothing wrong with that. I won't tell anyone." Patch quivered a bit giving a soft whimper and lowered her head. "I think that's all for me," Patch scoffed. "That's okay," KC smirked, "Thanks for proving me wrong."

Patch flinched holding her arm.

"Christ, all these big guys piled in on you and you only have a bruised elbow. That's rich." She chuckled and sat back on the bench.

"I don't want to die."

KC nodded silently.

"But we're going to… right?"

KC nodded, "It's likely."

"I want to be back in the vent."

"No one wants that, kid," KC replied, "Trust me, you're screwed either way." They laughed. KC shushed her and waved her to her direction. Patch slid over to her and they laid side by side in each other's arms.

"How's that?" KC sighed.

"You're not uncomfortable?" Patch asked.

"No," she sighed, "I'm just really tired. And I need something warm to sleep with. So that's gotta be you." Patch laughed and fell into her arms. KC rubbed her head and wrapped her arms around her closing her eyes.

"I don't want to die," Patch admitted.

"Shhh…," KC whispered in her ear, "Let's just focus on right now. Okay?"

Patch nodded, and closed her eyes.


	8. No Quarter: Conclusion

"45 was the last count," Knock Knock said looking through his binoculars.

"They're growing in numbers," Calvin deduced.

"Man, that was a trenchant observation! Wasn't that amazing?!" Knock Knock mocked. "Cut the crap and keep looking out," Calvin sneered writing in his notepad.

"We can't walk out there in such a big group," Eric explained.

"If we drive through that field we could hit a snag and fall into a pit of them, or they could follow. The engine noises are attracting them and grabbing a following," Calvin explained.

"It would be the same thing if we were on foot. At least with the truck we can hide out. Those things don't need to rest," Knock Knock explained.

"I say we hoof it and cut our losses," Calvin suggested. "It's not long now until we lose gas." KC moved forward, "I say we think about that when we lose gas."

"I'm braving it," Knock Knock said pushing forward revving his engine up.

"That rice mill will make a fine home," Dave scoffed.

"Fuck that, when we gather troops, I'm jetting," Crunch replied.

"Where to?" asked Eric.

"Anywhere but here."

"Why are you waiting until the rice mill?" asked Dave.

"That's where it cuts right into the towns. I figure I'll find a place to hole up in and wait all this shit out there. Or Fiddler's Green."

"No one's going there unless they find it themselves."

"Why don't we?" asked Dave.

"It's in a city," Crunch replied.

"How many cities are in the world?" Eric said with implied futility. He nodded, "Just forget it. We're better off doing what Crunch is."

"Are you actually giving me credit for a plan?" Crunch asked.

"It's the only logical thing to do at this point," he replied growing a frown, "I think when this is all over, we'll all be splitting ways and fending for ourselves."

"It's not that extreme," Dave argued.

"Wait a few months," Eric replied, "Just wait a few months."

"When this is all over, I'm finding a hole and staying there until I get the go ahead," Crunch grumbled with a frown, "Or maybe I'll… find a safe haven or something. There has to be many out there right now."

Patch sat at the very end of the truck filming the cloud of dust forming over the large groups of grabbing hands stumbling after the truck. The moans could be heard whizzing past the shipping vehicle as Patch aimed her camera near them, always making sure to catch their faces in close up before losing sight of them. It was hard to believe they were alive once, "We're kicking a trail as we're on the road again awaiting confirmation from KC and Calvin to meet at the mill. It's been tiring and Knock Knock has been driving since this morning trying to get us out of the woods into the clearing. It's tough because there are so many holes and places to get jammed in. For once I agree with Calvin. Maybe we'll be better off just walking. I don't want this truck to dive into a landslide or something."

She gave a heavy sigh, "All the chaos has left even the ground unpredictable. It's sucky. We don't know what's in dirt. Bodies. Piles of metal. Maybe some land mines left over by the first platoon—oh crap, look at that--!" She panned her camcorder over and saw the endless array of decrepit shells once cars that lay along the side of the roads and along the fields. Some toppled over and on their sides, they resembled grave stones. Now they were only grim reminders of the many failed efforts of thousands of people to escape the growing numbers of the walking dead. And the glut of shambling victims grew minute by minute as the hours amounted to almost no progress in their journey to meet up with the others, and a large trail of the undead who followed along the sounds and gathered from every corner.

"How many trucks do you figure are out there?" KC asked looking out behind her. Patch looked up at her, "I don't know," she brushed the hair from her eyes, "Maybe fifteen. It looks like a convoy, right?" KC nodded, "Yeah, a convoy."

"Wow, that must have been some disaster."

Knock Knock walked over behind KC and whispered in her ear, she sighed and turned following him into the group as the truck sped along the fields. "How many were lost?" Calvin asked over the radio.

"Out of the six trucks that fled the base, only two are out there on the roads. Two and you guys. They didn't last too long out there," a voice said over the radio. "We saw Stanfield and his unit take a nose dive in to an oncoming bus. They were in such a mad panic they didn't pay mind to their surroundings. Before them we heard the other two were bombarded by civilians who tried to take the trucks. It's a…" his voice quivered over the wire, "It's a fucking war zone out there, Montalvo."

Calvin rested his head along his hand and didn't acknowledge the others who gathered around with slumped soldiers. "Armando, meet back at the rice mill and we'll think of what to do next, got me?" There was a short silence, "We're not going." The group stirred. "That's an order," Calvin replied.

"The chain of command means squat, Calvin," Armando replied, "Your orders are shit. Last night two in our unit booked it in to the woods. Three ended themselves with their fire arms. There's only three of us. That's not panicking, that's just an indication." KC yanked the radio from Calvin's hand, "Hey Armando," she said forcing a scoff.

"Hey, KC," Armando replied with a hopeful voice, "It's great to hear from you."

"How are you?"

"I've been better," he scoffed, "I'm trying to keep it together, but… I don't know." KC nodded silently, "What are you guys going to do now?"

"I wish I knew," he scoffed, "We're going up through New York, and we're going to separate once the truck runs out of gas. From there, it's just… I can't survive by myself, KC. I can't."

"Why don't we meet up at the rice mill and we can just make sense of it?"

"Stop imitating Calvin," he joked, "You know in your heart there's nothing to make sense of. This whole fucking thing makes no sense. We turned away seventeen little kids when we fled the base--"

"—So did we."

"—That's fucked. Things stop making sense after that. Last month I bashed a little girl's skull in. She was four. And all because I thought she was bitten. It turns out some rat snuck in to her room and bit her elbow. Does that make sense to you?"

"Tell him to report to the rice mill, now!" Calvin ordered.

"You sound gone," KC said ignoring him.

"I am, girl," Armando said in a disparate voice, "I am far gone. I'm so scared."

"You're already drifting from the rendezvous point."

"You know me too well. We're far from the rice mill. We're running on fucking fumes." KC nodded looking her unit over. She was lucky. "Armando, do me a favor."

There was a short silence, the break of the radio, "Yeah…?"

"Just don't kill yourself. Not yet, at least."

"KC…"

"…Armando," she insisted, "Just do me the favor. I don't want to think of you putting a gun to your mouth. Only when you're really down, okay?"

"Alright, I promise," he replied.

"So, goodbye."

"Goodbye, you sexy bitch."

KC laughed looking back at the group. Patch sat behind them listening in. "Goodbye you fucking wop."

"Its do or die at this point," he warned her, clearly addressing them all, "You either keep fighting or turn it in. Later." The radio broke and the silence filled the air.

"You defied my orders," Calvin grumbled.

"Give it a rest, Calvin," KC said dropping the radio at his knees, "He wouldn't have met us there if you threatened to kill his family." She sighed turning to sit back down on the bench. "Take the seat," Knock Knock said to Eric. Eric leaned over and Calvin shoved him aside to take the wheel.

"What the fuck, Calvin?" Eric asked.

"I'm taking the seat, I don't trust you."

"That's hurtful," Eric mocked.

"I give him this seat and he'll be driving us in to hell like Armando," Calvin warned, "That fucking nut job."

"Show some fucking respect," Knock Knock argued.

"Fuck your respect, and fuck you! We're reporting to the rice mill and getting our shit together." Dave tisked, "Know when you're beaten, man. Damn."

"Shut the fuck up, Diaz!"

"Where do we go after the rice mill?!" Eric yelled angrily, "What are we doing?! There's no point in this! We should be finding a safe place and occupying it, not going to some fucking shit hole to repeat the same things we've heard over and over!"

"I'm still the commander here!"

"Who cares?!" Eric barked, "Who gives a crap about any of this?! You think Armando is going to be punished by the higher ups?! He's doomed, man. We should be thinking like him and finding a place to occupy once and for all!"

"It's fucked," KC declared, "You hear me Calvin? It's fucked! It's all going away!" She leaned over to the driver's window, "And if you keep driving to that rice mill, we're fucked too!"

"What do you suggest then, KC?" Crunch asked.

"Do I even have to tell you? The sergeant and everyone else are in Fiddler's Green probably sitting in some underground bunker somewhere. We were left to sit with our thumbs up our asses. We don't matter anymore. We're just guns for hire. We're like everyone else in a thousand miles West, East, and North. We were left to rot in that place and you're not facing that."

Crunch tossed a bullet into her chest, "There. You know what to do." KC grumbled and jumped from her bench lunging at him and the cabin shook as they wrestled around shouting and KC took shots at Crunch who fell into the bench, Knock Knock and Eric dragged her back as she shouted in a rage. Patch knelt down filming the chaos and crouched under the bench looking over at Crunch who was holding his bloody nose smirking. KC shouted as the guys wrestled her to the ground and attempted to calm her temper. The truck stalled screeching on to the road, and the group halted the arguing as Patch stood up and rushed to the front seat. There was silence briefly and then the bobbing heads gathered around the back of the truck. The hands reached out into the doors and they stood up drawing their weapons.

"There's a lot of them," Patch whimpered shoving her camcorder into her bag.

"How many?" KC asked.

"A lot."

"How many?!"

"I don't know, I-I just ran over here!"

"We're blocked up here!" Calvin yelled kicking the gas down and stalling. The back of the truck shook as he continued pounding his foot on the gas with no progress. "What the fuck is going on, Calvin?!" Eric yelled.

"We're in a pit!" Calvin replied smacking the wheel, "The wheels are stuck, and we're surrounded. We're sitting ducks."

"Lift me up on the roof," Crunch told them.

"What? Why?" Dave asked.

"Lift me up, I'll get a full view of our situation and maybe we can escape with our asses in tact." They hesitated and gathered as he climbed along their shoulders, crawled out through the driver's cockpit and slid out onto the top, clawing along the cloth hull. Patch knelt down catching a glimpse as his leg slid out in to the sun, and she filmed as they all looked up into the hole. "They're going to get in," Patch whispered etching back as the hands filled the end of the truck anxiously scratching to get in.

"Come on," Eric said climbing up.

"What are you doing?" Calvin asked looking back at the door.

"We're just going to look for a way out that doesn't involve going back there," Dave panted climbing up after Eric.

"We're cornered," Patch said filming the back of the truck, "We're stuck. And we're trying to find a way out. Are you seeing this?" She lifted the camera up near her face to grab her reaction and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "It seems like… they're getting trickier. They're walking around in places that seem safer for people to go through and… they multiply fast. They're there when you don't think they will be. Maybe it's because they're smarter than they think. Or maybe there's just more now than there were a month ago. How many more will…?" She turned panning the camera up and saw Dave's legs squirm through the ceiling. "Shut the camera off," KC ordered. She didn't need to be told twice. She clapped the view finder shut and shoved it in to her bag.

"So, while we wait?" Knock Knock asked.

"Aim for the door," KC said drawing her automatic, "And shoot at what ever tries to crawl in." Knock Knock grumbled angrily and drew his gun.

"Knock Knock, chuck your grenade at them," Calvin ordered.

"Are you crazy?" Patch protested.

"I'm curious myself," KC sneered.

"Knock Knock, that's an order."

"Go fuck yourself," he replied panting, "If I chuck a grenade out there, we'll blow ourselves to kingdom come. Not to mention, bits and pieces will come flying in here, all unpleasant." KC fired knocking one to the ground.

"We can just jump it and run for the woods," Dave said looking over.

"Or just go over the car and split up," Eric explained, "They can't catch us all."

"That's the dumbest thing you ever said."

"I take one jump and I can high tail it to the towns out there."

"The crowd is getting larger out here!" Knock Knock yelled from below.

"Climb up and we'll hoof it," Eric urged reaching his hand out, "Hurry!"

"Shit, look at the waves," Dave gasped overlooking the crowds in the distance.

"I have to get out of here!" Calvin grunted looking around at the cabin.

"Calvin, come on, focus!" Knock Knock ordered, "Patch you first."

"But what about you guys?" she asked being held up.

"You first, and then the rest of us," Knock Knock insisted.

"Patch is coming up!" They lifted her by the waist, she reached with her arms extended and Eric pulled her up sliding her in through the gap.

"This is really high," Patch said standing along the haul.

"Just relax and don't look at them," Eric replied looking over.

"KC, come on," Patch whimpered anxiously.

"You go up," Knock Knock whispered, "And then Calvin and I'll go after."

"KC?" Patch asked startlingly beginning to cry. KC jumped up and held on to Eric's hands as they struggled sliding in through the haul. Calvin panted looking around anxiously. "Now you, Calvin," Knock Knock said.

"I can make it out the side here."

"No you can't, they're all around the truck. We're stuck. Come up here and we can probably escape with our asses in tact."

"No… fuck this," Calvin said strapping a gun belt on his waist, "And fuck you all. I'm making my way to Fiddler's Green, and I'm doing it my way." He opened the door. "No, Calvin, don't—!"

He stepped forward but much too late as Calvin ducked out from the driver's door and fell into a group of the dead who growled grabbing at his clothes. He yelped falling on his back and scurried running along the field. He found another group running right in to them and fired wildly, shooting their shoulders and chests to no avail. "Oh fuck--!" Knock Knock said seeing the heads enter the penetrating the driver's seat. "Guys, I need help down here," Knock Knock pleaded. He turned shooting in to the driver's seat and clogged the entrance with the bodies. "Come on!"

"Shit," KC said reaching down, "Eric help."

They leaned down reaching their hands out and Knock Knock struggled as they pulled him up. He grunted lifting himself and he slowly rose up to the haul as the dead seeped in from the doors and back. His legs swung from the top momentarily, and he finally slid in through the top.

"Goddamn it, they're in," Knock Knock panted.

"Where's Calvin?!" Eric asked.

"He high tailed it," he panted looking off in to the fields, "And I don't think he made it that far." He looked off and saw Calvin still limping past the shamblers who reached out to him and took bites out of him. He'd run in to two a small group who'd snap at his arms and bring him down and he still fought them off adamantly. His stubbornness kept him running as fast as light, but his bloodied arm and the bite marks on his body signaled an instant defeat. He wasn't getting to Fiddler's Green any time soon. He was already far gone. "What about us?" Patch asked panting anxiously. Crunch looked over and stood behind Dave staring blankly in to the faces. "Crunch?" Patch asked noticing, "Crunch, what are you…?"

"Calvin left?" Dave asked surprised.

"Yeah, I'm thinking to doing the same," Crunch declared.

A shot rang out, Patch screamed, and Dave fell to the ground clutching his stomach. "Fuck!" he cried looking up at Crunch. They stood looking to him shocked and rushed toward Crunch, "Back up!" He aimed at them, "I told you I'd kill you, you fucking smart ass! I told you! Calvin was a moron! I'm high tailing it and you guys aren't doing a goddamn thing! Now back off or you're next!" Dave went limp and blood seeped in through the roof. He turned nudging his body with his foot and he disappeared over the edge. A light thump below in to the crowds indicated he'd fallen in to the brood, and they made quick work tearing him from all directions. He spit blood and let out a sharp cry, quickly halted by the tearing of his face and head from the seams of his spine as they fed in to him. "You motherfucker!" Eric growled.

"Take a chance, man," Crunch pleaded, "Trust me, I'm dying to take you down next." KC drew and they fired at the same time. She grunted as Crunch staggered back holding his arm, "Fucking bitch!"

"Next is your head," she grunted holding her stomach.

"They're distracted," Crunch declared proudly, and jumped off the haul rolling on to the ground. The crowds made their ways to him but he'd cushioned the landing and ran past them without breaking a sweat.

"KC?" Patch asked wide eyed, "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," she forced a smile, "We have to go."

"Dave," Patch said with a broken voice.

Eric rushed forward, drew his gun and fired at him as Crunch ducked his head and dodged the gun fire. "Go while you still have the chance," Eric said dropping his gun to the side, "The three of you."

"Don't be stupid," Knock Knock replied.

"Guys I can't make it out there by myself," he said with a quiver, "Just go and I'll try to get the truck out of the ditch, alright?" KC stepped forward, "Eric… come on… you're not getting the truck out."

"I know," he whispered, "But I gotta try."

"But the unit."

"The unit is gone. This whole thing… it's been a waste of time. The military, the base… the government. This isn't going away. Only the strong are making it out. We were nothing but cowards."

"You're not--"

"—It's true," he scoffed, "All of us."

"Take care of yourself…?" she pleaded.

He nodded silently.

"Alright," Knock Knock knelt down, "Patch get on my back."

She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her legs from behind. He stood up and they turned looking down at the ground. It was so close, but seemed so far. KC took one look back at Eric who watched solemnly. He had to take one last shot at the truck. He couldn't last out there, and he knew it better than they did. "On three," KC said panting. They jumped in unison and landed along the ground rolling. Before the dead could make sense of the intruders, they ran through the roads quicker than they could breathe. "Come on, don't look back!" KC panted as they rushed through the back roads. Patch could hear the moans and groans of the dead behind them, slowly drifting in to the recesses of the late day. She could only imagine Eric looking out as they made their getaway, probably finding a safe haven of their own to hold up in.

The camera turned on and the scene quickly panned over to Patch's face. She was more worn than the days before, forming dark circles under her eyes, and she wasn't up beat as before. Behind her KC's legs squirmed about as Knock Knock sat by a window box. "So it's night time," she whispered, "And… the battery is running out. So, this might be the ending of the documentary. I was thinking about finishing off here where I thank everyone for watching or say something from a book… what do they call them…?" She pursed her lips thinking for a moment, "Quotes? Is it quotes? Or excerpt…? Anyway, we ran for hours ducking in to alley ways and eventually found a suburb. I don't know why, but this place isn't as packed as the other cities and suburbs. A lot happened in the last time we talked um… well, Eric is dead, Dave is dead, Calvin I think is dead, Crunch ran away and killed Dave and… we're here. We found this place. There's no food, no light, no water, and no heat, but… we're safe for now."

She held her head flinching, "Ow… I hit my head really hard in the woods out there. I think I have a concussion or… a cracked skull. I think Knock Knock said a cracked skull, I feel very dizzy and it hurts…" Knock Knock and KC murmured behind her. "I don't think this is temporary anymore," Patch admitted with a heavy sigh changing her tone to gloom, "People don't run and hide when something's temporary. People don't kill each other when everything is going to be alright, you know?" She tore her bandanna off and sighed dabbing at her obvious head wound. She dropped the camera looking back at KC who sat in a corner holding her stomach and woozily shook her head, "So… I'm not going to sleep. I hope I don't." She turned the camera off and walked over to KC. Knock Knock held his finger to his mouth signaling her quiet.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"I don't think so," Patch smirked, "My head hurts real bad."

"Shouldn't be long now. Tomorrow we can just duck out while the getting's good," Knock Knock sighed looking out the window.

"Maybe you two should go," KC suggested.

"No," Patch protested with a quiver, "You can't."

"Honey, I'm in bad shape," she said shivering, "He got me good."

"Bastard," Knock Knock sneered, "I should have killed him."

"He hit me," KC whispered, "I'd love to say this is just a flesh wound but…" She grunted stirring, "It's really bad, babe."

Patch gazed at her blankly.

"I'm sorry," Patch whispered, "I can't…"

"I know," KC said forcing a smile, "I know you're hurting on the inside… you don't have to explain." They held hands and Knock Knock knelt down near them. "I could run for help."

"There's no help," KC replied.

"I could get food or water or something."

"We're not making it to the rice mill," she scoffed.

He gave a smile nodding.

"Take Patch?"

"I can't leave you here," Patch quivered

"Come a time I won't be KC anymore, baby," she argued, "When I die… something bad is going to happen, and I don't want you here when it does." Knock Knock sighed clutching his head, "KC I don't know what to say."

"Just take Patch… please." She grunted.

"I'll think it over, okay?" He asked.

She nodded closing her eyes.

"Just get some rest. The both of you."

Patch crawled over to her corner and sighed closing her eyes.

"Take care of her?" KC whispered.

Knock Knock nodded silently.

"You have my waist tied down good and tight, right?"

"You're not going anywhere for a while."

She nodded pursing her lips.

"I'll see you, tomorrow," she whispered, "Hopefully."

"I'll be here," he assured her sitting near the window.

They were now in the black.

There was complete silence for once.

Wails traveled through the air ducts. They found another survivor. She was glad it wasn't her. Would the dust do her in? Was there asbestos? Wouldn't it be a bitch if she was poisoned to death and some poor soul sought to hiding out with her and came across a confused undead girl crawling around in the black? It'd be a sight. She cracked a smile for the first time in weeks and closed her eyes hoping for sleep.

"Patch? Patch? You're snoring. Patch?"

She gasped opening her eyes and held her head grunting, "Ow," she whispered covering her wound. She heard her name. She looked around at the emptiness of the room and stood up wearily. "Hey Knock Knock, did you hear anything last night?" She turned and saw KC's legs still in the light, her upper body was hidden in the darkness. "Knock Knock?" She turned seeing KC. "KC?"

"He's gone," she replied in a barely audible response, "Bastard ducked out last night…" Patch's eyes glazed over in shock and she sighed.

"So much for heroes, eh kid…?"

"Coward."

She wheezed loudly.

"Patch…"

"I'm here." There was a long silence. She stood still for what seemed like ten minutes waiting for a response. She knew there'd be none. Her legs squirmed in the light and the growling emerged. It was soft at first, and then as her body came in full motion, she growled loudly. They'd hear it.

She thought for a moment looking around and felt a rush of panic brush over her. "KC… don't play with me…" KC's hands shot out from the darkness and she reached growling. She was still tied down. She gazed wide eyed as she could just make out her pale face and large pearl white eyes. She turned kneeling to the floor and opened her view finder. She turned on the camera. There was just enough battery power. She knelt down just out of reach from KC and began filming. It was a wobbly scene, but KC's stone pale face was clear as crystal, even in the dark. "My head hurts, KC. It really hurts…"

She felt the blood leaking from the top of her head and heard the smacking at the door below. The growling persisted. "If you're watching this, my name is Patch… I'm stuck in a small room in the north end, and I think I can leave here, but I don't know if I have a concussion or… it hurts," she flinched holding her head, "I'm leaving this tape here for whoever finds it. When the world goes back to normal," she said closing in on KC's face, "They'll know what happened. To each and every one of us, I have to leave KC. I'm sorry. KC... KC... KC...?" she looked over to her with pearl white eyes, and gave a groan almost as if longing for her. KC groaned reaching out. She sniffed and reached for her, "KC...? Look into the camera..."

**THE END…**

… **Coming Soon:** _The Dead Chronicles, Part Nine: Touch of Grey_ –A little boy's fate lies in the hands of a stranger, can he rescue him from damnation?

Disclaimer: Author Felix Vasquez does not own the rights to Dawn of the Dead or the concept. Original characters, scenarios, and title "The Dead Chronicles" are a copyright of Felix Vasquez.


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